


Mistletoad

by Ibbonray



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Humor, Jasper plays wingman, M/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor Bellamy Blake/Gina Martin, Minor Harper McIntyre/Zoe Monroe, Minor Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Minor Nathan Miller/Bryan, Monty turns into a toad, Multi, Romance, Slowburn Minty, The 100 characters - Freeform, minty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibbonray/pseuds/Ibbonray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Monty suddenly turns into an amphibian, Jasper goes on a mission to discover his best friend’s True Love. Unfortunately, the truth only confirms Monty’s single status, and Jasper will do anything to fix that. Even if it means locking his best friend in a closet with a Slytherin.</p><p>(Or, Jasper plays matchmaker and too many jokes are made about toads.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. just a tad polish

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “My best friend turned into a frog and now I’m being the best wingman/woman/person ever by bringing them around to bars and getting hot people to kiss them in hopes of hooking them up with their true love.” (With several tweaks, considering Monty's a toad for Hogwarts authenticity.)
> 
> The (slowwwwburn) Minty AU you never knew you wanted. The pairing might be half-dead, but with a ship name as grand as theirs, anything is possible.

You have probably heard the story of Monty and Miller. It's been told thousands of times, probably imprinted into your brain by now, the way important conversations stick around when you’re sober. But you’ve probably never heard the tale sober. It is told at the midnight hour when the storyteller’s mouth is all burnt with Firewhiskey, gloating about his best friend kissing three hundred people. And you always say, “Jordan, you’re full of crap,” because he is.

But you’re not always sure what to think, because Monty and Miller are definitely the type of people to catch the other’s scent in Amortentia.  Though they won’t admit it, they are in love. As Jasper would say, True Love. So there is no way you can call out Jasper’s bluff without having been there.

Well, having been there, I’ll see what you think.

\---

“Come on, man, I’m trying to finish this essay and all you can talk about is Maya.”

Jasper is studying in the library with Monty. Well, Monty is studying, and Jasper is ranting about Maya, but that’s a minor detail. Nothing matters more than the Herbology incident that afternoon in which he’d tripped and fallen face-first into the Venomous Tentacula. If it were any other day, Jasper would have considered the incident as a sign for True Love. But today is Tuesday.

See, Tuesdays are cursed for Jasper. Though Monday is finally out of the way, there are still three more torturous days until he can blow off schoolwork and raid the Blakes' butterbeer stash. Secondly, Tuesdays are _double Charms._ (While the class itself is impossible, Shumway has it out for him.) And to make it worse, Quidditch team results come out tomorrow, which is another thing to be worried about. (Jasper knows his Keeping skills are equivalent to a horned slug's, but he’s still holding on to the shred of hope like it’s a lifeline.)

“Sorry. I’m a little restless,” Jasper tells Monty. He looks down at his own parchment, but he doesn’t have Potions tomorrow so the blank paper isn’t concerning. Across the table, Monty’s handwriting is spidery and haphazard.

“A little restless?” Monty snorts. “Leave that to the first year Hufflepuffs.”

“Hey! Hufflepuffs aren’t all nervous breakdowns waiting to happen.”

“I never implied they were. Just that you aren’t acting very Gryffindor.”

Jasper rolls his eyes, moving his feet so they’re resting on the table. His shoes are still muddy from Quidditch tryouts, but he can’t remember the spell for cleaning them. (Freaking double Charms. Jasper hates it, but he must endure.)

“ _You_ aren’t acting very Gryffindor,” Jasper says immaturely. “Go back to your Potions.”

“Actually, I’m headed for the Restricted section. Come with?”

After a sigh and a grumbled protest, Jasper is being dragged into a room that probably hasn’t been dusted for  _centuries_. Technically, nobody ever said Jasper was allowed to be here when Monty’s around, but nobody ever said he wasn’t. It is universally assumed that Monty keeps an eye on him. During fourth year, Mr. Vie gave Monty full permission to visit the Restricted section whenever he pleases, since he's a trustworthy Ravenclaw with respect for the old volumes.

(Not that Jasper doesn’t have any respect. When he asked for full access, Mr. Vie declined with the truth: Jasper an immature prankster from Gryffindor. And he won’t deny this doesn’t hurt, since Monty pulls as many pranks as he does, but House prejudice is House prejudice.)

The brown-haired boy takes this time to admire the shelved books. Their covers are fascinating, some bound in leather and others bound in materials he would rather not inspect under one of Monty’s newfangled “microscopes” (don’t ask, Jasper doesn’t know how they work, either). On the other hand, his best friend walks briskly to the corner and crouches near a row of books, running his finger over their embossed titles.

Jasper isn’t exactly paying attention when Monty removes a book from the shelf. He has become distracted by a particularly detailed spine that mentions something about Herbology, which naturally leads him to thinking about Maya. Maya- _Merlin_ \- Maya is the most talented and beautiful specimen to ever have graced the greenhouses with her presence, and Jasper is undeniably, irrevocably in True Love with her. Despite the Venomous Tentacula incident. And the fact that they've only spoken four times. Oh, dear, Jasper’s day cannot get any worse.

Once again: Jasper isn’t exactly paying attention when Monty removes a book from the shelf. But he _is_ paying attention when Monty opens the book and disappears in a cloud of dust.

Literal disappearance. An entire-body experience. Except for the fact that, hold up, Monty isn’t completely gone.

Okay, so Monty has turned into a frog.

Frog. F-R-O-G frog. Frogfrogfrog. Jasper’s mouth is gaping. He shuffles closer to the little creature, which sits perched on the overturned book, its eyes widened in a look of surprise that mirrors his own.

Considering that they both attend a school of magic and have just been writing essays on love potions, this shouldn’t be surprising. But Monty freaking Green has transformed into a freaking _frog_ , and Jasper’s day has definitely gotten a lot worse. He will never again underestimate the power of Tuesdays.

Almost immediately, Jasper scoops up the frog and stares at it, questions ricocheting in his mind. The frog lets out a displeased chirp. Jasper deduces that Monty isn’t enjoying his newfound frog legs (not the edible kind, mind you), and snorts with amusement. Soon, he's doubled over in laughter.

(The situation is actually hilarious. Not every day your best friend becomes an amphibian. Especially a _green_ amphibian, which has the potential for some incredibly beautiful puns.)

But after a few minutes, Jasper’s expression sobers. Monty is a frog. Cool, alright, but what if he isn’t able to change back within a couple of days? Monty has never missed a deadline in his life, and since the two have classes all week, the Ravenclaw might end up having a panic attack if he fails an assignment. And… and what if this transfiguration is irreversible? What if Monty is a frog for the rest of his life?

Jasper pales at the prospect of never talking to his best friend ever again.

If the frog were any other guy (on any other day), Jasper would probably wait until morning to approach a professor, but this is Monty (and it’s a Tuesday). So he slides the frog into his pocket and makes a predictably irrational decision by high-tailing it out of the library and running toward the Headmaster’s office. Surely the man will know how to fix any problem.

He spends thirty minutes groveling in front of the gargoyles and Professor Wallace for the passcode, but Jasper finally makes it into Kane’s office, so it’s worth it. When he enters, Kane is understandably annoyed with his presence. However, Jasper isn’t here for self-gratification.

“…And then he turned into a frog,” he says, having related the entire story in a single breath. “Here he is in my pocket, Professor. Will you change him back?”

Kane sighs, tipping his nose down at the amphibian in Jasper’s hand. The frog (Monty, Jasper reminds himself) has large green spots dotting his back and dark eyes blown wide with apparent confusion. (Or perhaps at the novelty of being in the Headmaster’s office. Jasper isn’t sure how present his friend is behind that curved, amphibious smirk.)

“First of all, that isn’t a frog. It’s a toad,” says Kane.

Well whoop-de-do. Jasper has to clamp his mouth shut to prevent from saying it’s Monty either way.

“And second of all,” Kane goes on, “why didn’t you go to your Head of House with this information?”

Jasper shrugs. “Indra would probably think it's another prank.”

The Headmaster seems displeased as he takes out his wand and performs a few nonverbal spells to confirm Monty’s predicament _isn’t_ a prank (Jasper feels kind of insulted about the fact that nobody trusts him anymore). But Jasper feels triumphant as they stroll down to the library to further analyze the cause. Mr. Vie seems utterly confused as they enter, and the book Monty was reading still lies face-down in the Restricted section. Upon seeing it, Kane chuckles.

(This gives Jasper hope that Monty’s greenness is only temporary. Which causes him to snicker about all the puns he’ll make when Monty is human again. He’ll _have_ to use the ‘tad Polish’ joke: that one’s a classic.)

“This is a normal occurrence,” Professor Kane tells him simply. “We have a similar incident happen every decade or so. Someone finds the book, opens it, and becomes a toad. Your friend is going to be fine.”

“Alright, so can you turn him back?” (Jasper tries to keep the eagerness from his tone. He isn’t _that_ desperate.)

“Unfortunately, I can’t at this moment.”

And that’s that.

By the time he reaches the Gryffindor common room, Jasper has decided that this is the worst Tuesday _ever_. Not only is Monty a fro- _toad_ , but according to Kane, there’s a zero percent chance he’ll be human again unless he gets kissed by his True Love. Though this news is supposed to be relieving and uplifting, it poses a problem. Monty does not have a True Love. He doesn’t have a Maya to occupy his thoughts. Therefore, he has a zero percent chance of reverse transfiguration, and Jasper has a zero percent chance of seeing his best friend ever again.

Which is not okay. Seriously, not okay, Jasper is about to start bawling right in front of Octavia Blake and he’ll _never_ be able to live that down.

He trudges up to the sixth years’ dormitory and takes refuge in his bunk, holding Monty in the palm of his hand. Monty looks bored. Personally, Jasper has no idea what to do now. He should probably be brainstorming how to find Monty’s True Love, but he can’t come up with anything, and casually glancing through his stash of Maya Vie photos isn’t an option when Monty’s right there with him…

A thought strikes him. Duh! All he has to do is try to convince every girl in the nearest vicinity to kiss Monty. Surely one of them will end up being his True Love.

...Except this poses another two problems. First of all, Jasper must do this covertly. As they’d been walking back to the Headmaster’s office, Kane told Jasper to keep this under wraps for as long as possible. Kane will inform the teachers, and Jasper can tell his friends if they ask about Monty, but otherwise this won’t be going public. (Jasper secretly decides that Kane is incredibly unaware of the Hogwarts rumor mill. The news will be spread by this time tomorrow.)

Secondly, for Jasper to determine Monty’s True Love, he will need to find a lot of free kisses. And free kisses aren’t easy to come by, especially when the person to kiss happens to be a fro- _toad_. There is only one method for carrying out this experiment: bribery.

(Ignoring the fact that he’s broke. As in, I-only-have-two-Knuts broke, and that joke isn’t even _funny_. Maybe he can borrow a few Galleons from Wells.)

Bribing the Gryffindor girls should be easy. Hufflepuff should be too, and who knows, Jasper might be lucky enough to get Monty a few kisses out of pure kindness. Ravenclaw will probably ask a plethora of questions, but Jasper will have to tell most them the truth anyway, considering Monty is absent from his dormitory tonight. And as for the Slytherins… Jasper shudders, trying to imagine asking Lexa to kiss his “pet toad.”

Actually, he’d rather not think about the subject any longer. If he dies trying to save his best friend’s wizardly existence, at least he’ll have died for a good cause.

Jasper strokes a finger down the toad’s back before it hops away toward the end of the bed. “Goodnight, Mon,” he says quietly, leaning back. It will all be okay. Tomorrow, Jasper will try his very best to convince people they won’t get a disease from smooching an amphibian, and it will work. It _has_ to work.

Let operation Get Green a Girl commence.

\---

Jasper isn’t having much luck.

After taking a shower, he approaches Wells and asks about borrowing ten Galleons’ worth of Sickles. Surprisingly, Wells hands the money over without question. Jasper likes that about him. Wells is trusting and kind enough to be a Hufflepuff, but noble enough to be Gryffindor. Being the Minister of Magic’s son has had no effect on his disposition.

Jasper stands in the middle of the Gryffindor common room and calls attention to himself. It’s just before breakfast, so most people are milling about with food on their minds. “Hey everybody,” he says. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies, but I’m paying every girl a Sickle to kiss my pet toad.”

Everyone in the room looks appalled. Is it _really_ that shocking?

Octavia is the first to approach him, and of course, she’s asking every question imaginable. “Where did you get that toad? Where did you get the money? Are you absolutely _insane?_ ” Jasper just proffers a Sickle in one hand and Monty in the other. Octavia takes her Sickle, kisses Monty on the top of the head, and nothing happens.

One down, a few hundred more to go.

By the end of it, Monty’s been kissed twenty-six times, and he still looks toad-ally amphibious. Since there are forty-one girls in Gryffindor, operation GGG is still underway, but Jasper has made a dent in the numbers. This calls for a plate-load of bacon and some covert staring at Maya from across the Great Hall.

Unfortunately, once Jasper enters the Great Hall, Monty safely tucked in his pocket, all hell breaks loose.

Raven is the first to approach him. She looks incredibly vicious, and really hot too (but Jasper is in True Love with Maya so he has no motivation for pursuit). “Where’s Monty?” she asks heatedly. “He was supposed to meet me in the common room after your study session last night, but he wasn’t there, so I talked to Wick who talked to one of Monty’s roommates, and turns out he _didn’t even show up to his dormitory last night._ ”

“Er…” Jasper takes a large gulp of pumpkin juice to cover up his nerves. “I don’t know where he is, I haven’t seen him.”

“But you definitely saw him during your study session! And you’re the last one to have- wait, you didn’t used to have a toad.”

Raven’s look of suspicious accusation does it. Jasper covers his face with his hands. “Look, you can’t tell a bunch of people, because Kane doesn’t want rumors flying around. But it’s not my fault!”

“Kane?” Raven looks alarmed.

“Yeah. Monty…” Jasper looks around at his fellow Gryffindors, none of whom are paying attention, and lowers his voice. “…well, he’s turned into a toad.”

He points at the small creature, which lets out a chirp and hops toward Raven.

Raven doesn’t believe him at first, but once they leave the Great Hall and he explains the details, she plants a kiss on Monty-the-toad’s forehead. As to be expected, nothing happens. (Jasper is secretly disappointed. He’s always thought that Monty deserves to have a hot girlfriend, and Raven would be perfect.)

They return to the Great Hall, but just before Jasper begins eating again, another Ravenclaw approaches him with wild hand gestures. After that conversation, he takes toad-Monty and retires to the Gryffindor common room. If people are going to start pestering him all day, maybe he’ll have to start taking meals in the kitchens. (Jasper feels a headache coming on.)

By that afternoon, the entire school seems to know that Monty’s missing, and half of them know he’s become a creature of minuscule size. Girls who have heard of Jasper’s GGG operation are coming to him willingly, which is nice, considering he doesn’t want to spend all of Wells’ Sickles. By the end of the day, Monty has been kissed by every curved-chested figure in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, as well as many from Hufflepuff.

Harper, one of Monty’s best friends, is included in the mix. Jasper knows the two dated last year. He also knows they broke up because her parents were adamant about Harper marrying a pureblood. Which is stupid- everyone’s heard of Harry Potter and the Wizarding War, and you’d think blood tensions would have died down by now- but there are still some purebloods demanding consistency. (Their reaction was bad enough when Harper got sorted to Hufflepuff. Howlers for months.)

When she kisses the toad, he’s silently praying that she is Monty’s True Love. He knows Monty still loves her by the looks Jasper has seen in co-house Arithmancy. But she isn’t, and Jasper can see the disappointment in Harper’s eyes, her subtle frown.

“I’m already tired of trying,” Jasper says, in attempt to distract her from the truth.

Harper smiles crookedly. “Hopefully the person who can turn him back actually goes to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, let’s hope. I’ve been crossing my fingers that it isn’t a Slytherin. Besides Clarke, I wouldn’t call any of them approachable.”

The Hufflepuff laughs, and the Gryffindor smiles. They’re sitting in library armchairs, Monty-the-toad looking contemplative as he perches on Jasper’s arm rest. Jasper is still not sure if the toad has the same thoughts that Monty does. He wishes he could ask. He wishes his best friend were sitting here, completely human, speaking coherently about incoherent ideas. Jasper and Monty have never gone a day without seeing each other; this is taking its toll.

“I’m going to go back to the tower, Harper,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

She nods. “See you tomorrow. Breakfast date in the kitchens?”

“You’re on.”

\---

Day two of operation Get Green a Girl, and Monty is still very much a toad.

Jasper has two free periods, but spends them working on his Potions essay in the library. Various people approach him, wanting to know where Monty is and if the rumors are true. Each time, he keeps his mouth zipped and Monty tucked away in his pocket. The toad gets antsy from claustrophobia, but Jasper thinks it understands he’s only doing this to avoid questions.

He has Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon, which is a small co-house class. Maya is there, surrounded by her Hufflepuff friends, and Jasper only took CaMaCrea as an elective because she did. (He doesn’t know why she takes it. You don’t need CaMaCrea credits when you’re training to be a Healer. However, Clarke Griffin is also there for no fathomable reason, so Jasper ignores the questions and appreciates having a friend.)

He likes Clarke. Everybody does. She’s kind, determined, and doesn’t seem vicious enough for Slytherin. Jasper asks her to kiss his “pet toad,” and she does without question.

(Monty is still a toad. But Jasper knows Bellamy Blake has his claim on her, so maybe that’s a relief.)

Jasper spends all of CaMaCrea trying to work up the courage to approach Maya. Clarke doesn’t ask why he isn’t paying attention to the caged Manticore, instead waiting until class is over to shove him in Maya’s direction. Jasper stumbles in front of her group of friends, pulling Monty from his pocket. He hopes there isn’t a dopey smile on his face.

“Hey girls… Maya,” he says.

“Hello, Jasper.” (She is so bloody _gorgeous_.)

“Er, so I have this pet… well, he’s not really… okay, so I can’t say why, but I need you to kiss him.”

The three Hufflepuff girls around Maya look skeptical. “That’s weird,” says one of them- Mel- her nose scrunching slightly.

“I’ll give you a Sickle each?” Jasper stutters.

Maya hesitates; then nods to him. “It’s okay, keep the Sickles.” He's a bit dazed when she reaches for the hand in which he is holding Monty and presses her lips to the toad’s forehead. (Jasper feels bad as a wave of relief washes over him. Monty is nowhere closer to being Monty again, but this means Maya is Jasper’s True Love, without a doubt.)

Mel and the others are reluctant, but Maya simply adorns a death stare until they comply. Jasper watches her in awe. It’s a miracle she wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. In fact, he’s been wondering lately about whether or not Houses actually say anything genuine about people’s identities. He thinks he read an article once about the Sorting Hat taking student’s choices into consideration. Besides, all humans are multi-faceted.

During dinner, Maya approaches him with a large group of Hufflepuff girls in tow. “Here’re the ones that said they haven’t kissed your frog yet.”

Jasper is so in love he is going to die. “He’s a toad,” says the Gryffindor weakly.

That’s how he ends the day with the realization that Monty’s True Love is a Slytherin. Jasper feels sick to his stomach with the knowledge that all of those girls are cunning, at least half of them are evil, and tomorrow he’ll have to bribe kisses out of their pursed lips. Hopefully Clarke will be able to help him out, considering she’s in the same house as the lot of them. And with luck, operation Get Green a Girl will not have to be dubbed Get Green a Serial Killer.

\---

It has been a week since Monty amphibi-vanished, and Jasper is down to one last Slytherin.

The entire process has been tricky. After going to Clarke, who was able to convince sixteen girls to kiss the Green toad (how, she won’t tell him), Jasper went around to each Slytherin individually. Most girls demanded more than one Sickle- some bartered with five, others demanded a _whole Galleon for Merlin’s sake!_ \- but he managed to get plenty of kisses with the last of Wells’ money. (Jasper will bravely admit that he nearly peed his pants in front of Costia and ran screaming when Emori threatened to hex him. He weaned a kiss from them both, and he is not ashamed.)

Now, he’s faced with one last challenge, and Jasper feels like his stomach is going to explode from worry. It’s Lexa. If he asks Lexa to kiss Monty-the-toad, she’s going to kill him. If he asks Lexa to kiss Monty-the-toad and she complies, then she is still going to kill him. If he asks Lexa to kiss Monty-the-toad and he turns into Monty-the-human, Costia is going to torture Jasper for hours on end until he dies, and that will be that.

He begs Clarke to arrange him a meeting with the Slytherin Queen. She’s hesitant, but eventually agrees to bring Lexa, on the condition that he won’t push any boundaries. He promises not to.

When the time finally comes, Jasper wants to throw up and throw himself out the Gryffindor tower window all at once. Lexa approaches him beside Clarke, her narrowed eyes decorated with dark makeup. “Why have you brought me here, Gryffindor?”

Jasper is freaking _terrified._ This is so much worse than asking Maya. “I- er- Ms. Wo- Lexa. Lexa, I was wondering if you would- er- kiss this toad?”

It’s a Tuesday, and this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Lexa refuses adamantly. Clarke seems to have prevented her from taking her wand to their meeting, which Jasper is eternally grateful for, but Lexa is no less frightening. She accuses him of attempting to muck up her pure blood, give her a disease, and ruin her reputation. She threatens him, tells him of the spells she knows, that she can have him expelled and-

And Jasper just wants Monty to be Monty again, so he takes one look at the toad in his hand, pauses for a split second, and shoves the creature toward Lexa’s mouth.

Monty’s head grazes her lip. Nothing happens. Lexa shrieks, Monty remains fun-size, and Jasper takes off running in the opposite direction.

Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh _Merlin_.

When he reaches Gryffindor tower, Jasper collapses onto an armchair and tries his best not to cry from the stress of a near-death situation. Once he releases the toad from his relentless grip, it makes itself scarce, seeking refuge somewhere else. (Stepping into Monty’s shoes, Jasper wouldn’t want to have forcefully kissed Lexa, either. Not only does it mean Monty will potentially be murdered alongside Jasper, but the kiss was all for naught.)

Jasper pauses.

The kiss was all for naught.

_HolyfreakingMerlinohmyHarryPotterduckingcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap!_

Lexa isn’t Monty’s True Love. Which means Monty is in True Love with a girl that goes to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang… or worse, she’s a Muggle. Jasper cannot go throughout the universe asking every Muggle woman in existence to kiss a toad! He doesn’t have that many Sickles! And this means Monty is going to be a toad for the rest of his life, oh crap, and Jasper is going to be _lonely_ for the rest of his life.

Jasper misses Monty. Really, really misses him. Monty would know what to do.

He sighs. Maybe he doesn’t have to go around asking girls to kiss Monty… maybe there’s another way. Well, Headmaster Kane did say this was the only option, but perhaps nobody has ever tried another solution. The Restricted section is bound to have some counter-curse ideas. Maybe Professor Indra will know what to do- she has dedicated her entire life to Transfiguration. Jasper is not alone in this. He’s surrounded by resources, and Monty Green will find his True Love at last.

Let operation Get Green a Girl continue.

\---

It’s Friday evening, and Jasper is in the library.

The only people in the library right now are himself and Mr. Vie. It’s quite shocking: not even the Ravenclaws care to study after a week of heavy coursework. Jasper is sure that there’s a party raging in Gryffindor tower, and normally he would be part of the masses, but not today. Professor Indra recommended some books and gave him a signed note for the Restricted section during class. He cannot waste this opportunity.

There are piles of books surrounding him, and _this_ is the reason Jasper didn’t want to be sorted into Ravenclaw. But there is his best friend, sitting pleasantly on the wooden desk in front of him, and if that’s not motivation, Jasper doesn’t know what is.

Someone coughs above him. He looks up, bleary-eyed. “Harper? What do you want?”

“What are you doing in here, Jasper?” she asks.

“Researching. You?”

“Typically nobody is in the library on Friday nights, so Monroe and I use the space for practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Harper says. “What are you researching?”

Two years ago, Jasper wouldn’t have said. There was a time when he assumed Harper was low-hanging fruit: pureblooded, but weak and moon-eyed. That was back when he was head-over-heels for Octavia Blake. But after falling for Maya and helping Harper and Monty through their breakup, he considers the Hufflepuff one of his best friends. Don’t underestimate a girl who wears black and yellow. She always has the potential to sting you.

“I’m looking up ways to counter the toad transfiguration,” he sighs, nodding at Monty-the-amphibian.

“You’ve given up with the kissing experiment?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Harper looks confused.

“Well, it isn’t working. He’s been kissed by every single girl in Hogwarts- even the first years- and I even tried _Lexa,_  but nothing helps! What am I supposed to do? Surely none of the teachers are his…” Jasper trails off. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harper pulls up a chair and sits, looking grim. “Jasper,” she says, “he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me…?”

“Monty’s bisexual.”

And _Merlin’s pants holy crap bloody freaking hell,_ of _course_ he is _._

Jasper is speechless for several small eternities, alternating his gaze from the toad on the table to Harper, who seems stuck between empathy and laughter. Okay, so that’s news. Several things click into place at once: that one time Monty was adamantly saying that Bellamy Blake’s freckles looked like stars; Monty’s insistence on getting up insanely early to shower (avoiding the crowds); Monty’s blush when they were hanging around the Quidditch pitch that one time, even when there weren’t any hot girls around; the fact that none of the Hogwarts girls are his True Love. Jasper thanks Merlin and Harry Potter and all the bloody stars in the universe, including the ones on Bellamy’s nose, for this information.

He knocks over several of the book piles as he hugs Harper, feeling exhilarated. “Harper McIntyre, I _love_ you,” he says. (If you ask him, the tears in his eyes are being caused by book dust, not gratitude.)

“Should I be worried?” says someone that definitely isn’t the person he’s hugging. Jasper looks over Harper’s shoulder to see Zoe Monroe, a fellow Gryffindor sixth year who remains notorious for her intricate braiding style.

“Nah. Jasper just had an epiphany,” Harper replies. She extricates herself from Jasper’s grasp, and he’s not sure why the two are gazing at each other so intently, but he figures that’s their business.

Later that evening, after nabbing a butterbeer from Octavia, Jasper borrows another ten Galleons from Wells. Once again, Wells asks no questions, and Jasper is a bit off put. (There is _no_  way somebody can be that trusting and manage to survive in a world full of money-starved teenagers. Considering the rate that Wells distributes Galleons and the rate that people don’t reimburse him, the Jaha bank account could run out within a few years.)

He pockets the coins and they rattle nicely when he takes off his robes before bed. The rest of his dorm mates are still partying in the common room, but Jasper’s exhausted, looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning. Monty sits on the end of his pillow.

“Dude, why didn’t you ever tell me?” he says to the toad, pulling on his pajamas. “I’ve been playing your wingman all these years and I could have totally hooked you up with some hot guys.”

The toad chirps, and Jasper has hope for the first time since Tuesday.

\---

Operation Get Green a Girl has officially been renamed Get Green a Guy (for technical purposes).

Jasper’s desperation is now less subtle. He begins to approach guys left and right, no matter their age or House. It’s a lot easier than with the girls. (Jasper never truly appreciated girls’ ferocity until he went around paying them for toad kisses. Guys are much more gullible. Offer one a Sickle, and he’ll do your bidding without question.)

However, searching the opposite end of the gender spectrum has its own challenges. Jasper isn’t sure if he’s supposed to search out gay students or just male students in general, considering it would brutally suck if Monty found True Love with a straight man. Also, Jasper has never really thought about his friend having a _type_. Does gender change anything about visual preference? Does visual preference matter at all?

Thinking back, Monty’s type seemed to be girls with bubbly and kind personas, but maybe that was just Harper. Who knows? Perhaps he’s a sucker for the “tall, dark and handsome” stereotype. (That would certainly explain Monty and Jasper’s conversation about Bellamy’s freckles. And the blushes when encountering Slytherin’s Quidditch team.)

(In fact, maybe Jasper should put the Slytherin Quidditch team on his list of potential experimental subjects.)

And so it goes. Jasper spends most of Saturday walking around the Hogwarts grounds with Monty tucked safely between his palms. He spots Raven and Wick sitting on a stone bench, working on Arithmancy, and he goes up to them with a crooked grin. “Kiss the toad?” Jasper says jokingly. Wick does, with no lack of merciless teasing. He isn’t Monty’s True Love, though it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“But seriously,” Wick says. “Get my boy Monty back to normal, you hear? I can’t leave Hogwarts without learning how the moon affects tidal waves, or I’ll have wasted my time befriending him.”

Jasper nods, and Wick cracks an awful joke about wands, to which Raven says something about dropkicking his arse to the Shrieking Shack. When the Gryffindor turns his back on their bantering, there’s a grin on his lips. Monty-the-amphibian is looking pleased as well.

Once he’s faced Murphy and Mbege, all traces of his brilliant mood vanish. (After wasting ten Sickles, Jasper realizes it isn’t Murphy or Mbege, which definitely relieves some of the pressure from his shoulders.)

He goes to Bellamy Blake, too, and the rest of the Slytherin team. They don’t have practice today, but Jasper knows Bellamy leads an intensive workout program most mornings. It’s located in a secluded part of the grounds that is grassy and moderately devoid of trees, other than the few they use as makeshift goals. Jasper watches from afar as Bellamy leads a few team members in laps around the trees, and then instructs them to dismount and do odd exercises on the ground.

The word _cardio_ floats across his mind, and Jasper’s sure Monty told him the definition at some point, but he isn't exactly sure what it means.

“Hey, Bellamy!” he says, when he’s close enough to see the boy’s freckles. Bellamy instantly springs from where he’s been thrusting his chest up off the ground, looking a bit confused to see him. The others stop, too. One of them is Clarke, their Seeker, and she smiles.

“Hey- I’m Jasper. I don’t know if you know me, I’m friends with your sister…?”

“Yeah, I know you, Jordan. Clarke was telling me about what happened to your friend. Is that why you’re here?”

Jasper looks at the ground sheepishly. “Er- kind of. Yeah. I’ve got Sickles if you want one.”

“Can’t hurt.” Bellamy Blake’s freckles really do look like stars, Jasper thinks. He also thinks that it would be kind of awesome if Bellamy were Monty’s True Love. He fits the “tall, dark and handsome” category, seems nice enough (for a Slytherin), and would probably love Monty as deeply as he loves his sister. Except Bellamy’s straight, and he’s got evident sexual tension with Clarke.

Well, it can’t hurt, and it doesn’t. Bellamy plants his lips on the toad’s head. No change. Jasper mourns a bit for the freckle conversation.

Another Chaser, Atom, kisses Monty-the-toad with a skeptical eyebrow. So does Jones, their Keeper. Everyone is rewarded with a Sickle, Emori nods to Jasper in a way that sort of makes up for her previous hex threat, and Bellamy orders his team to get back to work. “We can’t be losing to Gryffindor,” he reminds them fervently.

Jasper thanks them as they mount their brooms. “And d’you know where your Beaters went off to?”

“Ontari has a project. Miller’s flaking off with his boyfriend.” (Bellamy’s sour expression indicates that Miller will be getting extra laps tomorrow. Jasper should probably know who Miller is, but he doesn’t.)

“Alright. Good luck with practices.”

“Same to Gryffindor. Do you play a position?”

Bellamy’s words are ignored. Jasper is already gone off in search of more potential True Loves; there’s no time for telling Bellamy Blake about his failure to make the team. (The devastation he felt after seeing results last Wednesday was made more brutal by Monty’s absence. Of course, there is always next year. But, Jasper reflects, try telling that to yourself _without_ crying when you’re speaking to a toad for comfort in an empty dormitory.)

He clutches Monty in his hand, his mental strength renewed. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and Jasper is going to find his best friend’s True Love if it takes him years of stealing Wells’ Sickles. As for now? “Hey! Hey, Art! Artigas! Would you mind kissing my toad? I know it sounds weird, but you’ve probably heard the rumors about Monty...”

\---

Jasper stumbles across Miller by accident.

It’s a Tuesday- of course it’s a Tuesday, why wouldn’t it be- and instead of studying in the library, Jasper is serving detention with Professor Griffin. To make a long story short, there was a Potions incident in which one of the Slytherin sixth years refused to kiss Monty, so Jasper ended up feeding the guy his love potion out of frustration. The love potion resulted in Monty getting an _abundant_ amount of kisses, which was great, except for the fact that he’s still a toad.

And now Jasper is getting death glares from a creature the size of a Cauldron Cake.

Anyway, when he enters the dungeons accompanied with a vengeful amphibian and a cross frown, there are two other guys serving detention in the same classroom. Jasper recognizes one of them: a Hufflepuff seventh year named Bryan. As far as he knows, Bryan is a decent fellow who likes Herbology and CaMaCrea. Monty might have talked to him once or twice. (Muggleborns occasionally flock together.)

However, he only slightly recognizes the guy on Bryan’s right. The guy wears green-trimmed robes and seems to hate Tuesdays just as much as Jasper.

“Hi. Jasper, right?”

The Gryffindor nods. “And you’re Bryan. Think I’ve seen you around the greenhouses before.”

Jasper sits a few desks away, but Bryan is extremely friendly and they strike up a conversation about Professor Vera’s teaching methods and ways to reduce hazardous Venomous Tentacula encounters. The guy next to Bryan is silent, but Jasper can see from this vantage point that they’re holding hands, so whoever it is must be Bryan’s boyfriend. Which might be beneficial for operation Get Green a Guy (although at the same time, Jasper doesn’t think Monty would want to interfere with a relationship).

He’ll ask, though- he’s got to ask, and the conversation seems to lead right to the subject. “So, what’re you in detention for?” Bryan inquires.

He laughs. “Well… _Merlin,_ this sounds odd, but I forced one of my classmates to drink a love potion so that they’d kiss my toad, here.” Bryan looks aghast, while the other guy seems mildly curious. “No, it wasn’t Amortentia, and no, I’m not insane. See, I’m conducting an experiment in order to-“

“Mr. Jordan, if you terrorize one more student about kissing your toad in my classroom, you’ll be placed in Tuesday detentions for the rest of the year,” says Professor Griffin sternly. (There’s a trace of amusement there- Jasper knows she knows it’s Monty- but teachers have been instructed not to mention Monty in front of students.) “Sorry I’m late, boys. Heads of House meeting.”

There’s a nod from the Slytherin.

“What’s the plan for this evening, Professor?” asks the Hufflepuff.

“Well, since the two of you were so kind as to knock over one of my shelves while displaying your affections for one another, you’ll be replacing a few of the broken items. Meanwhile, Mr. Jordan here is going to be locked in a room with a different toad while under the influence of a love potion.”

Wait a moment. “ _What?!”_ Jasper exclaims. “No, you can’t do that, as a member of the faculty you aren’t allowed to do that to students-“

Professor Griffin’s smile is absolutely evil. “There are no guidelines to dictate detentions,” she says, “and it’s only for ten minutes, Mr. Jordan. An appropriate punishment. At least you won’t be pickling brains, like these two.”

And so Jasper allows himself to be lead to an empty classroom down the hall. Professor Griffin takes Monty from him, kindly offering up a different toad. The new toad is an ugly, brown-spotted behemoth, and Jasper doesn’t see how he is supposed to fall in love with it. He soon finds out, downing the proffered potion with a look of sheer panic.

(In the future, people will try to convince Jasper to describe what it’s like to be in love with an unidentified toad. Honestly, all he’ll end up remembering is the craving for something intangible, and the press of his lips against textured skin. Which is kind of disgusting. At least he doesn’t end up getting salmonella or some other disease.)

When the ten minutes are up, Griffin forces the antidote down his throat and he returns to his normal self. When they return to the Potions classroom, Bryan and his boyfriend are working diligently, and Jasper still has another half an hour until his allotted detention time is up. Professor Griffin simply assigns him a few lines. (Truth be told: the smell is enough to make detention torturous. But Jasper is here for Monty, and that’s a pretty noble cause.)

By the time the two seventh years are finished, Jasper’s done with lines and waiting next to the doors for them. After all, this is probably his only chance to get them to kiss Monty. Although they are dating, one could have the potential to be his best friend’s True Love.

(Jasper hopes it’s Bryan. Jasper really hopes it’s Bryan, he seems so _nice_.)

“Okay,” he says to Bryan, when it’s all said and done, “I’m sorry, but I really do need to ask you about that experiment.”

Bryan looks to his boyfriend with an unreadable expression, and then back at Jasper. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard the rumors flying around, but I’m conducting an experiment that requires participants to kiss my pet toad. I can’t say why, but it’s extremely important, and I’ll pay you a Sickle. Would you?”

“Er…” the Hufflepuff looks skeptical, and rightfully so. “Would I contract salmonella?”

“Nope, I’ve performed some spells to counteract disease.” (Jasper hasn’t, but Kane swore that any kisses wouldn’t cause sickness.) “I know it sounds creepy, and I know I got detention for it, but you’d be doing me a huge favor. _Please_ , man.”

Bryan nods. “Alright.”

Jasper holds Monty out to him. The toad sits, looking alert, and Bryan bends down to quickly peck the top of the toad’s head. Jasper takes a deep, preparatory breath in. But- Bryan is backing away. Monty is still a toad. The Gryffindor has gotten his hopes up for nothing.

He lets out a devastated sigh. Bryan nods, smiling uncomfortably, and Jasper reaches into his pocket for a Sickle. Taking it, Bryan moves to leave, slipping his hand into the Slytherin’s-

“Wait.”

They stop, turning back around.

“What’s your name?” Jasper says, gesturing.

The Slytherin narrows his eyes. “Miller,” he says in a gruff, clipped tone. (Jasper automatically decides that this is _exactly_ the sort of guy he wouldn’t want Monty dating, because it's the silent ones that are the scariest. Bloody hell, this guy is probably a serial killer in disguise.)

(Then again, the name _Miller_ instantly clicks in Jasper’s mind. He i s Slytherin’s other Beater, one of Bellamy’s trusted elite, which means that Miller is probably a giant teddy bear wearing a Voldemort-wannabe costume. Plus, he’s dating Bryan. That must give him a few Hufflepuff points.)

“Hey, man, I get not wanting to kiss a toad. But the offer applies to the both of you, and I’ve got plenty of Sickles to spare.”

Miller suddenly looks incredibly angry, his hand drifting to his wand pocket, which causes Jasper to cower in fear. “Who the fuck d’you think you are, Gryffindor?”

Jasper squeaks.

“Nate,” says Bryan warningly.

For a moment, Jasper clutches Monty tightly in his hand, ready to high-tail it out of the dungeons. They are standing in the middle of an empty hallway, which makes a quick escape almost impossible to perform, but if Jasper enters one of the conjoining classrooms he might make it without dying. In fact, he’s about to take off sprinting when Miller seems to relax.

“Fine.” His tone is still clipped, but he’s leaning toward Monty, and that’s what Jasper is here for.

The Gryffindor is still preparing to run for dear life when Miller’s lips make contact with the toad’s forehead. And then everything goes haywire.

There’s a _poof!_ of magic as Monty transforms, just as quickly as the last time, and the toad in Jasper’s hand is immediately _really_ heavy. Bryan’s eyes go wide in shock as Miller and Jasper are engulfed in a hazy cloud. When the dust clears, there is something very wrong with the picture: Monty is standing directly in front of Miller, whose lips are pressed to his forehead, and Jasper’s hand is positioned on the small of Monty’s back. The hand is quickly removed, Miller springs away, and Monty crumples to the ground.

“ _Merlin’s bloody pants holy freaking shitballs!”_ Jasper exclaims, sounding absolutely, utterly astounded.

“ _What_ the _fuck,_ ” Miller almost screeches, scrambling toward his boyfriend.

“ _Harry Potter almighty,_ ” Bryan yells, tracing the symbol of a lightning bolt in front of his forehead.

“Ow,” Monty groans on the floor.

\---

By the time Abby Griffin makes it out of the classroom to investigate the cause of all this commotion, Bryan and Miller have sprinted in the opposite direction, Monty Green is lying on the ground with a dazed expression, and Jasper Jordan is running in circles around the corridor, shouting in glee about True Love and toads and Slytherins. (She doesn’t even want to know.)


	2. kermit suicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if I should go all-out English with this? Personally, I love the word snog, but I’m not sure it would be an adequate term for all the forehead kisses Monty’s been receiving. Please comment your input.
> 
> IMPORTANT INFO: 1) Monty makes Firewhiskey, which is aged and diluted pepper-infused moonshine, using an aging spell. 2) Most puns come from the ‘net. I’m not that brilliant. 3) JKR doesn’t give us a 7th year Herbology curriculum, so behold, the Vampiric vine is born.
> 
> Also, in trying to sync Monty-speech with my brain, the comedy has somewhat faded? And there's more swearing. But every character is different. Jasper is the king of punny side-notes; Monty is Mr. Overqualified; Miller is an emotional fluffball disguised as a thug. Nothing new, really.

They are sitting in the infirmary, and Monty swears that Jackson’s only keeping him here to combat the silence. Not that Monty minds much- infirmary abduction allows for plenty of time to make up the two weeks’ worth of schoolwork he missed- but he hates not being able to run away from Jasper’s questions. Primarily, the ones about being consciously kissed by over half the student body.

“Dude, so what was it like to be kissed by _Wick?_ ” his best friend snickers, chomping off the head of a Chocolate Frog. Monty has been given way too many Chocolate Frogs, especially after Kane’s breakfast announcement.

“I don’t know, Jasper,” he sighs. “It was the same as getting kissed by Atom, and Raven, and everyone else. They were mostly on the forehead; I’m not sure why you care.”

“I care because my best friend’s got _game_ as a toad!”

“Only because you paid them in Sickles,” he snaps. “Now, stop distracting me.”

Monty is trying to finish this Charms essay, and he loves Jasper. He does. But he also remembers Jasper feeding him castle-bred crickets, forcing him upon a wrathful Lexa, and giving him up to a love-struck Slytherin… so Monty can’t be blamed for being fed up. He just needs a break from all things amphibious. _Especially_ toad puns. Several cringe-worthy ones have been uttered in the past few hours.

Jasper doesn’t seem to notice Monty’s tone, instead reaching for a Peppermint Toad. “Speaking of payment, I need to reimburse Wells. Poor guy probably has people attacking his ankles for Galleons. I don’t want him to run out before the next Hogsmeade visit, and I’m broke, sooo…”

“So?”

“I need to borrow your still.”

The Ravenclaw looks up from where he’s scrawled a sentence about nonverbial spells. After quickly glancing at Jackson, who is making beds in the corner of the room, he lowers his voice. “First of all,” he hisses, “we shouldn’t be talking about this in the infirmary. Secondly, I’m too deeply entrenched in schoolwork right now to be brewing you Firewhiskey.”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s why I’ll be the one making it.”

“Are you kidding me? You haven’t set foot in the forest since that centaur incident our second year!”

Jasper smiles. “I’m a Gryffindor, Monty. You’ve said it before- I need to get my head out of my arse and face my fears.”

“I was talking about _Maya_.”

Jasper ignores him, which is probably for the best. Monty returns to writing about nonverbial spells and trying to forget the taste of live insects, and Jasper returns to devouring Monty’s collection of animal-shaped chocolates. There is too much chocolate. Monty hasn’t attempted to eat any yet. Although it has been two days since he went through the reverse transfiguration, he doesn’t have time for anything other than schoolwork. The Ravenclaw _desperately_ needs to get caught up, and the only thing preventing him is-

“Hey, wanna hear a joke? Just thought of this one… what do you call a lying frog?”

“Jasper-“

“An am _fib_ ian!”

This does it. “ _Get out_.”

Jasper grins. “I know, it’s brilliant. Wick must be rubbing off on me.”

“No, I’m serious!” Monty exclaims, his voice raising more than it should. “Get out. Get out of the infirmary. I’m sick of you. You’re around all the time, eating my chocolates, asking me what it’s like to be kissed by Harper and Bellamy and _Miller_ when I just need to finish my Charms essay before I’m expelled!”

There’s a deafening silence in the infirmary. Jackson pauses in the middle of his ironing charms, looking exasperated, while Jasper’s face contorts into an expression resembling a wounded Niffler’s. “Well, I’m _sorry_ for attempting to enjoy your company after two weeks of being lonely,” Jasper says.

“You weren’t lonely. You had Harper, Raven, Clarke, Octavia… hell, even _Maya_ to talk to.”

“But you’re my best friend, Monty. You don’t know what it was like for me to spend two weeks thinking I’d never see you again. It could have- if Miller wasn’t your True Love, I don’t know what I would have-“

“Yes, Miller.” Monty is irrationally angry. “Thanks for that, really. Turns out I’m in _True Love_ with someone who is already in a relationship.”

“That’s not my fault.”

The Ravenclaw laughs sardonically. “Sure, but if you hadn’t gone around making three hundred people kiss me, I might have still had a chance with Harper. Did you ever consider that? Now she thinks we aren’t compatible, according to stupid fucking True Love which doesn’t exist anyway- and I’m going to be _showered_ with sympathy because Miller’s got Bryan.”

“ _It isn’t my fault._ And it’s not my fault you were a toad, either!”

“You should have just let it go.”

Jasper’s mouth falls open, and Monty doesn’t want to take back his words. “You don’t mean that,” Jasper whispers. “I’m sorry if the kissing experiment left you heartbroken about Harper, or whatever, but you _can’t_ mean that.”

Monty just looks at him with a stony expression, watching as the Gryffindor’s features crumple. Jasper seems heartbroken himself as he storms out of the infirmary, leaving silence in his wake. Jackson shakes his head and continues to cast nonverbal housekeeping charms. Monty stares down at his essay with a complete lack of motivation. And the Chocolate Frogs sit waiting, but nobody indulges.  

\---

The thing is, Monty _knows_ he’s being irrational. As he walks toward the Great Hall, his stomach pangs with regret from yesterday’s argument. Quarrels with Jasper are never easy. Ever since Monty and Jasper became friends on the Hogwarts Express, they’ve had many disagreements, most concerning girls and all of them occurring because of Jasper’s lack of reason. This time it’s different. Monty has taken the position for distributing pain.

Yet as always, he knows their argument will be temporary. Jasper did nothing other than what was expected of him, and Monty isn’t ungrateful. (Nor is he ready to forgive and forget. Being an amphibian has taken quite a toll on the both of them, and Monty needs to catch up on schoolwork before focusing on friendship.)

He’s almost finished. Just three more essays, a runes translation, and several Arithmancy problems left until temporary freedom. Monty probably should have begged Jackson for a bit more time in the infirmary, but technically there’s nothing to recover from. The taste of insects is already fading from his tongue, and the only lasting issues of toad-dom concern relationships and the obesity epidemic. (Monty has already _Depulso_ ed the Chocolate Frogs and Peppermint Toads back to Ravenclaw tower.)

Speaking of sweets- Monty is starving. Since a recent fight caused Jackson to get overloaded with patients, Monty wasn’t cleared for leave until halfway through dinner. The meal is probably winding down by now. Hopefully it hasn’t reached dessert, or Monty might have to eat dinner in the kitchens, an action that reminds him of Harper.

He doesn’t want to be reminded of Harper, or her visit yesterday morning.

It has been a long time since they dated. Harper was Monty’s first hand to hold, first kiss, first… everything. First person he came out to, first person he fell in love with. And maybe he’s still in love with her- he doesn’t know. It’s complicated. Between her parents’ threats to disown her and the constant presence of Zoe Monroe, Monty has come to realize their relationship will never revert to a romantic one.

But if he possessed any amount of hope before becoming a toad, Jasper’s kissing experiment has erased that hope entirely. Harper came to him yesterday with an expression of reluctant acceptance and the words, “We need to move on from this, Monty.” She spoke of Miller being his True Love, and the way Monroe makes her chest flutter. They’d cried together.

“I still love you,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

Now, Monty is going to the Great Hall simply because he knows Harper won’t be there. (He doesn’t think he can tolerate any heartbreak today, even if the alternative is embarrassment.)

The chatter from the Great Hall grows louder, and he stops adjacent to the doors, taking a deep breath. Better to get it over with. Stepping through the doors, Monty attempts to make it to the Ravenclaw table without making a fool out of himself. But someone sees him, and another, and another, and suddenly the entire room has gone quiet.

“There’s the frog-boy,” he thinks he hears somebody whisper.

Professor Kane, sitting in the center of the teachers’ table, claps his hands together loudly. It diffuses some of the tension, but all eyes are still on Monty, who is blushing to the roots of his hair. “A kind welcome back to Mr. Green!” says the Headmaster. “Let us return to dessert.”

Monty wildly scans the table for Raven, who is (thankfully) sitting near to where he’s standing. He slips into the seat between her and a fourth year named Becca. “Hey,” he says as the hum of conversation starts up again.

“Hey, Mon!” Raven smiles. She visited him in the infirmary, so it isn’t a reunion. “Jackson’s released you already?”

“Yeah, the transfiguration didn’t have any lasting effects. I missed dinner?”

“Surely you can’t be hungry after all those Peppermint Toads,” she grins.

Monty reaches for the dish of apple pie. “Haven’t eaten any yet.”

While Raven doesn’t mention anything else about his previous predicament, the surrounding Ravenclaws are leaning toward him, itching to ask questions. He understands their curiosity. In Hogwarts, students are rarely at the receiving end of Transfiguration spells, and most Ravenclaws are hungry for any piece of knowledge they can get their hands on. This has not been helped by Kane’s speech the other day, which, according to Jasper, was incredibly vague.

On Monty’s right, Becca seems on the verge of combustion. She’s a genius when it comes to Transfiguration. “What do you want to know?” Monty sighs, bringing a fork to his lips.

Becca looks positively thrilled. “I was wondering if you could describe any immediate effects of the transformation? Since the curse placed upon the book led to instant transfiguration, and the book has impacted students before (based on my records research), the curse must have been cast by an _extremely_ powerful wizard. Not to mention a _kiss_ triggered the reverse transfiguration, which means it isn’t Dark magic, but it can’t have been True Love magic because that was disproven centuries ago…”

Monty nods along, interjecting when he must. Apparently, Kane’s speech to the student body didn’t concern True Love magic, and that’s perfectly fine with him. True Love is a sham, for all he knows.

(He feels eyes on his back, coming from the Slytherin table, but he doesn’t turn around.)

\---

Dinner has ended, and Monty is headed for the Ravenclaw common room, hoping to finish his Transfiguration essay before class tomorrow. He’s still hungry, but sustenance can wait until breakfast. (Harper wasn’t in the Great Hall. Neither was Monroe, so either they’re partying in the kitchens, or up to something that makes his stomach churn.)

“Green!”

He pauses on the staircase, and then hurries his way to the top. The voice is barely recognizable.

“Green- Monty Green! That’s your name, yeah?”

Monty rolls his eyes and turns around. “What d’you want?”

Miller approaches him, looking acutely pissed off. “An explanation,” he says. “You owe me one.”

Monty shifts away from the throng of people heading for the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers. “What is there to say?” he shrugs, leaning next to a coat of armor. “I’m sure you heard Kane’s speech about the transfiguration.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t fucking explain why you changed back after _I_ kissed you.”

Jasper must not have told Miller about the True Love thing. For once, Monty’s grateful. It would be incredibly awkward if the Slytherin knew, especially since they’ve never properly spoken before today. Besides, Miller has been in a healthy relationship for three years, and Monty would never do anything to ruin that. He knows Bryan. Bryan is enamored, possessive, and would not take well to realizing he isn’t Miller’s magic-dictated “True Love” (even if the phrase is far-fetched).

“I’m not sure why, either. Kane told Jasper I needed to be kissed by somebody specific, but he didn’t elaborate. If I had to come up with an answer… perhaps you represent my exact opposite?”

Miller visibly relaxes. “Alright. So it was just some freak accident?”

Monty nods. “Sorry,” he offers.

The Slytherin runs a hand over the back of his close-shaven head, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Monty thinks there are words on the tip of his tongue, but nothing is spoken.

“See you around?” he prompts.

Miller rearranges his features. “Not likely.”

The man seems to vanish instantly, his footfalls soft on the now-empty staircase, a thief’s trademark. Monty frowns at the coat of armor. Miller is… kind of a dick. Whatever sort of fate dictated that this man would save him from amphibi-ville must have been confused, for Monty could _never_ be attracted to Miller. His eyes are too enigmatic, his mouth unpleasantly twisted. He’s a _Slytherin._

Let Bryan have him.

\---

They hug it out on Sunday, when Monty’s eyes are drooping with exhaustion and Jasper has a craving for chocolate. It’s unusually warm for October, and they are standing near the lake, Monty’s book bag discarded on the ground. “I’ve been stressed lately,” he says into Jasper’s shoulder. “Please accept my peace offering.”

Jasper pulls back, eagerly grabbing the package of Peppermint Toads from his hands. “I’m hoping this apology extends to accepting my toad puns, because brother, you _know_ I’m never gonna stop.”

Monty cracks a grin. “I expected nothing less.”

“Amphibi-awesome.”

“So, what are you up to?”

The Gryffindor gestures to the wooden barrel he’s set down next to Monty. “I’m taking this to the still. Batch is nearly finished. You should come help- you’re the aging charms guru.”

“Sure. Speaking of charms, how has Shumway been treating you?”

“Like a dung beetle,” he says. (In fact, Shumway treats everyone like a dung beetle, causing countless students to drop Charms after their O.W.L.s. Monty is the only person to have received an Outstanding in their year, and that’s mainly due to brewing alcohol. Quite shocking how many protective charms a guy must learn to maintain a secret location.)

They gaze around the grounds for observant passerby, and, finding none, sprint into the Forbidden Forest. The still is hidden in a grove of trees and thick underbrush. Jasper’s done a good job with the distillation process, and they transfer the moonshine into the barrel, chattering endlessly to one another. It’s as if no time has passed at all. Monty speaks of his encounter with Miller around consecutive aging spells, and Jasper seems surprised that his best friend isn’t completely enamored.

“I mean,” he says, “You’re not supposed to think your True Love is a dick. When I first saw Maya, there was this little _Lumos_ in my heart, telling me that she’s the one. Why wouldn’t you feel that?”

“True Love doesn’t exist, Jasper. _Aevus._ ”

“Yes it does. Maya is mine,” he says.

“And you’ve talked to her how many times now?”

“Several!” Jasper’s smile is contagious. “Actually, the other night, I invited her to the Blakes’ co-house party. It’s this Friday, in some empty classroom on the seventh floor. Octavia offered to pay us for providing Firewhiskey, so this batch’ll be going to her, and the Galleons to Wells. Everything is working out in our favor, my boy! Say you’ll come to the party?”

“ _Aevus._ Wouldn’t miss it.”

\---

When Monday morning dawns, Monty has already showered, rewritten his latest Potions essay to its fullest potential, and eaten thirteen Chocolate Frogs (most of the collectible cards portraying history’s legendary Harry Potter). It is going to be a great day. He and Jasper are on good terms, Harper doesn’t take Potions, and the toad incident has provoked only a couple of puns.

The latter of which is about to change.

Since Monty doesn’t have morning classes, Wick challenges him to a game of wizarding chess. It turns into a full-fledged tournament, joined by Becca, Becca’s cat, and a fourth year named Chris. After a while, Becca’s cat begins walking across the board and interfering with the pieces, prompting Wick to think up an alternative game.

“Okay, so every time Alie crosses the board, one of us has to make a joke or pun about toads,” Wick grins mischievously.

Monty is perplexed, but permissive. “Too bad Jasper isn’t here,” he laughs.

Alie pounces on the chessboard, and the seventh year Ravenclaw smirks. “Jasper is the king of puns, so I’ve been toad.”

“That was far from ribbeting,” Becca snorts.

“Got one! Frogs are happy because they eat whatever bugs them.”

“ _Hoppy_ , you mean?”

Monty shakes his head. “Seriously, you all better stop with the puns or I’m going to Kermit suicide.”

The cat jumps into his lap, and the other Ravenclaws blink at him owlishly. Monty looks up from where he’s been collecting the scattered chess pieces. “Er… Kermit?” he gestures vaguely. “Kermit the frog, protagonist of a few children’s cartoons from last century? Starred in a few memes?” Wick shakes his head slowly. “…Right, none of you are Muggleborns. Never mind.”

The playful mood shifts, and there’s a lull in conversation as the Ravenclaws wait for lunch. It comes quickly enough. Soon, Monty is scarfing down a slice of Shepherd’s pie and catching Jasper on the way to Potions. Of all their classes together, Potions is his favorite, partially because he excels at the subject and mostly because Maya sits far enough away that Monty can tease Jasper mercilessly.

Professor Griffin has yet to open the doors when they arrive, and standing in the hallway triggers a strong wave of remembrance. Monty tries to shake the memory of Miller kissing him on the forehead, but it nags at him. So do Jasper’s words about True Love being enlightening. Monty will stand firm in his opinion that True Love doesn’t exist, but he will admit: there is _something_ compelling about the Slytherin. Miller is a mystery, and although Monty isn’t attracted to him, he certainly isn’t _ugly_.

(Just ugly on the inside. It’s the Slytherin in him, Monty thinks. Most Slytherins have a dark aura that follows them around. Clarke and Bellamy are exceptions, but they’re probably just better at hiding it. Miller might be a solid nine on the aesthetic scale, but the Slytherin shines through his twisted smirk, and it’s… it’s dangerous. Monty cannot affiliate himself with that sort of danger. He needs clarity, not an enigma.) 

He is pulled out of his thoughts when Professor Griffin opens the dungeon doors. Her smile is lopsided and her hair tied back in a wispy braid. “Hello, students,” she says. “You’ll be sitting in groups of four today, so please drop your things and gather around the demonstration cauldron.”

As usual, Monty and Jasper place their things at a conjoining desk, expecting to be joined by Murphy or another stray Slytherin. However, Monty is surprised to see Maya approach them with a friend in tow. “Hey, Jasper!” she says. “Do you mind if Fox and I sit with you?”

Jasper seems to be at a complete loss for words. “I- er- errr yeah! I mean, yes. I mean, no, we don’t mind.”

The Ravenclaw mentally prepares himself for several hours of intentionally _not laughing_ at his best friend’s clumsy infatuation. (At least it isn’t one-sided, judging by Maya’s reddening ears.)

Slipping between a few tables, Monty heads toward the front of the classroom, where the demonstration cauldron awaits. Inside, a potion bubbles, letting off steam in soft corkscrews. He leans closer. It’s beautiful, the scent a pleasant combination of new computers, sun-infused dirt, the subtle vanilla of ancient parchment, and something best described as a musky blend of dried herbs, sweat, and sandalwood.

“What the hell is that?” Murphy asks from his left. In Monty’s fume-induced stupor, he hadn’t realized that the rest of the class has gathered around him.

Professor Griffin walks behind the cauldron and looks to her students through the steam. “Language, Mr. Murphy,” she chides. “Now, since we’re reaching the tail end of our love potion unit, I’ve decided to introduce you to-“

_Amortentia._

“-a potion that arguably possesses the most dangerous ability of any concoction. As I’m sure you’ve discovered during your studies, Amortentia causes the drinker to become so obsessed or infatuated with the administrator that this infatuation can be mistaken for love. Though it is impossible to properly imitate True Love, Amortentia does give the administrator a great level of control over the drinker.” Professor Griffin grows stern. “We won’t be brewing it today because of restrictions. Do note that a student’s mere possession of Amortentia will result in expulsion and having their wand snapped by a Ministry official.”

At this, several students inch away from the cauldron, including Monty. “Why does it smell like butterbeer and eucalyptus?” asks Fox.

Professor Griffin smiles. “Would anyone like to provide Ms. Wilson with an answer?”

 “Amortentia gives off the scent of whatever most attracts you,” says Monty quietly. “It differs per person, and the fumes often depict what you love, including activities and people.”

“Very good, Mr. Green,” Professor Griffin nods, but Monty is already stuck inside his own head. Based on his answer, Monty loves technology, Herbology, knowledge, and something he can’t pinpoint. Normally this wouldn’t bother him, but the observation poses a theory that cannot be undermined.

He tests it out once they reach their seats, having been instructed to collect ingredients for brewing a love potion that isn’t Amortentia. “Jasper, what did you smell?” he whispers.

Jasper gazes at their pewter cauldron dreamily. “Chocolate, Firewhiskey, and lavender-infused Dittany.”

“Maya?”

“Yeah.”

And _fuck_ , maybe True Love does exist after all, because Harper doesn’t smell of herbs and sandalwood.

\---

The rest of the week passes by quickly.

One of the loveliest things about Hogwarts, Monty thinks, is the class entertainment value. Magic is _fun._ He remembers going to elementary school when he was younger and wondering why the teachers were always so condescending and the other children so dull. Home was solace; his parents are horticulturists, so Monty spent most of his time in the greenhouses. It wasn’t until he turned ten that the Muggle teachers recognized his genius and he was enrolled in secondary school science and tech classes.

Professor Sinclair taught him how to work his way around everything from computers to microscopes. Until then, Monty had overlooked his ability to randomly grow plants at faster rates. But learning physics opened up a new realm of self-evaluation, and by the time he received his letter to Hogwarts, Monty was immersed in Muggle science and engineering.

Monty takes summer classes with Sinclair, now. When he has the time at Hogwarts, he does scientific experimentation or anything to keep his mind busy. In September, Raven came to him asking for lessons in mechanics, so these days they meet several nights a week to tinker with computer parts. It’s enjoyable. Monty’s still unsure why she wants to know how to fix things when there’s _Reparo_ to cast, but most Muggle practices teach valuable lessons.

“Besides,” Raven usually tells him, “you never know if you’re going to be in a situation without a wand handy. I’d ask Professor Wallace, but he doesn’t know how to fix anything without a spell. His class is all about Muggle artwork. Painting’s alright, but it’s not for me.”

Being a Muggleborn in Hogwarts certainly leaves the world open to interpretation. Being a Ravenclaw allows Monty to want to pursue all aspects of the universe, including science and magic, and share his knowledge with his peers. Raven gets it. Jasper doesn’t, his head all up in the clouds. (But that’s familiar. Monty loves Jasper because he has always been there with a reassuring hand and something to laugh about.)

Loyalty. Monty values loyal people, and Jasper is one who sticks around. An outside party would probably assume it’s to make more toad jokes, but Monty knows their temporary separation has made Jasper even more protective of him. Despite this, they are both scrawny for sixth years. Getting their arses kicked is usually inevitable.

It happens on Wednesday. Monty and Jasper are heading for Alchemy when their year’s wannabe Slytherin Queen crosses their path. “Hey Mudblood,” she says to Monty (and he’s _really_ tired of this happening), “I hear from the rumor mill that your transfiguration situation was cured by my fellow Beater. Care to explain?”

“He put you up to this?” Monty eyes her and her cronies warily.

“Nah. He’s _innocent_ ,” Ontari snorts, her eyes appearing to know more than she’s letting on. “Too infatuated with his boyfriend to care for a Mud-“

“Don’t you call him that!” Jasper shouts, pulling out his wand, and _Merlin why does it always happen like this?_ Ontari, Titus, and the rest of her fellowship aren’t something they can defend against, even at this age. Jasper should know better than to attempt anything.

(See, Ontari is more of a dragon than a half-Kneazle. Monty has heard covert stories of her… _seduction_ of Murphy that didn’t sound like seduction at all, and considering, Murphy has a dangerous reputation himself. Jasper- being an airhead- is ignorant to the entire situation. Monty would rather his best friend not be the second victim.)

And so the rest of Wednesday is spent in the infirmary, Jasper nursing a Bat-Bogey Hex and Monty recovering from a plethora of bee stings. Not so bad, really.

The Ontari encounter aside, Friday comes around without an issue. Everyone seems to be talking about the Blakes’ co-house party. The siblings host a few parties every year, choosing an empty classroom to decorate and fill with food, drink, and people of all ages. If the professors know, they’ve never said anything. (Ignoring that time when Professor Indra warned Monty not to give too much alcohol to the underclassmen. It isn’t a problem. Bellamy Blake does most of the distribution, and he would never give any to fourth years or younger.)

Talk of the party is what brings Monty to the greenhouses. He has a free period on Friday afternoons, and Professor Vera always accepts the help graciously, knowing Monty’s parents are horticulturists. He has no problem handling the seventh years’ plants, and doesn’t mind working with the seventh years, either. Truthfully? It’s the best way to hang out with Clarke.

Clarke’s hair is tied back and her face flushed as she wrestles with a massive Vampiric vine. “Hey, Monty!” she says, turning around when she sees him. Her partners look up and nod- one is Roma, a Gryffindor, and the other is Bryan.

“Clarke,” Monty grins, pulling on his dragon hide gloves. “Here to help. And maybe gossip about the Blakes’ party, if you know anything.”

Bryan moves over to allow him some room to access the vine. They’re supposed to be pruning it, but that proves difficult when there are thousands of tiny bloodsuckers lining the shoots. Every helping hand matters when trying to wrestle the thing down.

“It’s going to be fantastic,” she says. “Octavia has convinced the House Elves to make a butterbeer-infused cake: my mouth is watering just thinking about it. And Bellamy says they’ve found some sort of room that transforms into whatever you want it to be. I think that’s a bit far-fetched, but he’s really excited about the chocolate fountain.”

At once, they all dive for the vine, Roma coming at it with the shears while Clarke, Monty, and Bryan hold it down. “Chocolate fountain?” Bryan exclaims, huffing from exertion. “Sign me up! I haven’t had fondue in years.”

“You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah. Nate and I wouldn’t miss it.”

Roma yells with triumph as she snips away a particularly rogue shoot. “What’s a chocolate fountain?” she asks, a bit belatedly.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Melted chocolate coming from a fountain. It’s a Muggle thing,” Monty replies, letting up from the vine. It lashes out at him, but he’s quicker to jump out of the way. Then, looking to Clarke: “How’s Bellamy doing?”

She smiles through pursed lips, much like her mother. “He’s fine. Entirely obsessed with history, as usual. Gina got him this Muggle book about war from a long time ago, and he hasn’t been able to shut up about it- apparently his mum read it to him and Octavia when they were little.” (Monty faintly remembers something about Bellamy and Octavia’s mother being a Muggle- their father was a wizard, though, as far as he knows.)

“Wait, hold up- who’s Gina?”

Bryan looks at him curiously. “You don’t know who Gina is?”

“Bellamy’s girlfriend,” Roma interjects. “They’ve been dating for a few days now, but Merlin knows it’s been on the horizon for a while.”

 _Hold up._ Monty quickly analyzes the situation. Roma and Bryan seem pleased, probably because they’re friends with Gina, but Clarke looks positively heartbroken. Apparently, the unresolved sexual tension between Clarke and Bellamy has become mega-unresolved. Something must be done. He catalogues it in his mind for later.

The conversation peters out after this. Professor Vera comes around to check up on their work, and everyone slips into the taxing rhythm of fending off rogue shoots. Finally, they finish pruning the Vampiric vine and rip off their gloves, wiping sweat from their faces. “See you tonight, Monty,” Clarke says. She turns to leave the greenhouse. “Don’t forget the Firewhiskey!”

Roma leaves, too, accompanied by another gang of seventh years. It’s just Bryan standing next to him now, packing up his things. The air surrounding Monty feels muggy and uncomfortable. 

“You bring the Firewhiskey?” Bryan asks, his eyebrows knitting.

“Yeah,” Monty says, shuffling his feet. “Well, I make it. Usually. Not this time: Jasper made it this time, since I’ve been too busy trying to make up the missed schoolwork.”

“Right. Two weeks, that sucks.” He pauses, but Monty has nothing to say, so nothing is said. “Er… I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but, erm, I’ve just been really curious about why my boyfriend was able to change you back? Nate just told me to let it go… but I figured I’d hear it from the source, you know?”

“Why do you call him Nate?”

“That’s his name, isn’t it?”                                                                

“I guess,” Monty says. “In- in terms of what happened, there isn’t a reason that I know of. Kane told Jasper a kiss from the right person would do, and Miller happened to be the right person. That’s all.”

“Really?”

For some reason, Monty has to fight the urge to tell the truth. “Really.” And Bryan’s relieved smile- well- it’s nothing compared to the memory of Miller’s lips on his forehead. (Monty rubs at the spot in between his eyes and wills the thought away. The memory of an unpleasant smirk replaces it, but not before Bryan leaves.)

\---

“My favorite sixth years!” Octavia Blake cheers. Her dark hair is decorated with several small braids, probably courtesy of Monroe. She socks them both in the shoulders and grabs the jug of Firewhiskey out of Monty’s arms. “Thanks for the booze, Jas. I owe you.”

The party is already in full swing, crowds of people milling about with butterbeer and pumpkin juice clutched in their hands. Monty recognizes people of all ages and houses; the turnout is at least a third of the school. He’s surprised the Blakes managed to find a classroom that contains everyone, especially… wait, is that chocolate fountain built into the _wall?_

“What is this place?” Monty asks Octavia. Jasper has already merged with a crowd of alcohol-thirsty people, equipped with his own jug.

The Gryffindor leans toward him. “I’m not supposed to be going around saying this, but Bell discovered that this room can change into whatever you need it to be. A toilet, a dorm, a partying room… you name it. The House Elves in the kitchens call it the Room of Requirement.” She shifts the jug of Firewhiskey to the crook of one arm and pulls him further into the room with the other. “Check this out. A built-in stereo system! Plays the Weird Brothers and all sorts of other bands. Plus, the decorations were already here, and there’s a _chocolate fountain_.”

“Biggest hit of the night,” Monty grins. “So, hypothetically, I could use this place as my own personal shower?”

“Probably. I mean, if there’s a bathroom available. According to the House Elves, the Room of Requirement lost a few of its options after it burned down during the Second Wizarding War.” She sighs. “I’ve got find Bell and help him distribute the booze, so I’ll see you later. Have fun!”

Octavia disappears into the crowd, and Monty is momentarily lost. The lights are colorful in the room, but dim, and it’s hard to make out any friendly faces. Nor does dancing take his fancy right now: he’s always preferred old Muggle music to the Weird Brothers. More variety and less sound effects. Then again, all beats sound the same when he’s drunk on butterbeer and Firewhiskey.

A cup makes its way to him, somehow, and Monty takes a large gulp. It burns its way down his throat. Nice.

He has a pretty high tolerance, so knocking back the drink only induces a buzz that brightens the colors and makes the Weird Brothers almost tolerable. Crossing the room, Monty searches for someone to talk to. Not Clarke- she’s surrounded by a group of younger boys with die-hard crushes. Not Bellamy- he’s with Gina, presumably. Jasper is nowhere to be found. And… Monroe! Monty slips through a group of Hufflepuff fourth years to reach the Gryffindor.

Too late, he realizes she is standing with Harper. But they've already seen him, and Harper is motioning to the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries in her hands. “Monty!” she giggles. “Have you ever tried this? You have to try this. Chocolate from a fountain- I didn’t know Muggles were so awesome!”

Monroe rolls her eyes. “She’s had a bit too much to drink already.”

“I can tell,” he says. When gazing at Harper, whom he’s been avoiding lately, Monty feels like someone has taken his heart and thrown it off Ravenclaw tower. The colors wash over her face and hair, which is done up in braids, much like Octavia’s. She beams in the signature Hufflepuff fashion. Harper is beautiful. He loves her, and some part of him always will. “Sorry, Harp. I’d try the fondue, but the line is too long.”

“Have some of mine. I got extra to share with Zoe, but she doesn’t like chocolate. Isn’t that _crazy?_ ”

Monty takes a strawberry, and Harper exclaims that she loves this song and runs off toward the dance floor. He turns to Monroe. “Zoe, now?” (There’s pain in his tone. He knows it; Monroe knows it.)

“Recent development,” says the Gryffindor lowly. “Green…”

“What?” he snaps.

There is a hand on his shoulder. “Green, I’m going to be real with you for a moment. I know it’s challenging to hear, especially from me, but Harper has moved on. You haven’t. And you need to. Your avoidance has been causing everyone grief, and continuing to cling to last year’s relationship only prevents you from finding something better. Step into unfamiliar territory; stop being such a coward.”

He thinks, long and hard, until several things click into place at once. These days, Harper’s smile doesn’t hold a candle to the way she smiled last year. This isn’t because Harper’s smile has changed: his perception has. Monty’s jealousy doesn’t concern Harper, but instead reflects the things he wants but cannot have. He is a lonely soul, with friends upon friends, but nobody to understand his inner sadness.

Monty doesn’t smell Harper in Amortentia.

He looks up. “I’m sorry. Fuck- I’m so sorry.” There are tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“It’s fine.”

“I think I’ll always remember what it was like to be in love with her,” he says, talking too fast. “And I love her, but I haven’t been in love with her for a- a while. It’s different. It’s… thank you. Thank you.”

“Save the sap for someone who actually cares,” Monroe says, but she’s grinning and Monty is grinning and everything glows with subtle relief. When Harper returns, clueless about anything previously said, Monty is happy. It is the first time he’s been able to say this for a long time. Monty is happy, and not the slightest bit lonely. Friendship is the fuel of existence.

After more laughter, vibrating music, and chocolate fondue, Monty decides to leave Monroe and Harper to search for Jasper. Unfortunately, Jasper is nowhere to be found, so Monty gives up and heads for Clarke. The Slytherin is holding two glasses of Firewhiskey, looking pretty far gone. Holding a coherent conversation with her proves to be impossible. Monty is about to walk away and down several shots of Firewhiskey himself when Jasper pops out of nowhere.

“Aaaand Jasper Jordan comes to the rescue!” he shouts over the music, accidentally knocking into another partygoer and spilling Firewhiskey everywhere. (A rescue, Monty’s arse.) “How’s my boy doing? Drunk yet?”

Monty pulls out his wand to clean up the mess. “Not even close. Where have you been all this time?”

“A true wizard never reveals his secrets! Well, actually, I’ve been with Maya. Talking about… Potions! Yeah, Potions,” he says. “Hey, so Octavia told me they’re starting to run out of butterbeer and asked me to go retrieve more from their stash. Come with me?”

The Ravenclaw is fantastic at scoping out a lie, and Jasper has never excelled at being secretive, anyway. “If Octavia needed more butterbeer, she would get more butterbeer. What is it actually?”

“You caught me. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you. Wouldn’t be a secret otherwise.”

“I hate secrets.”

“Not as much as I do!” Jasper swings his arm around Monty’s shoulders. “It’s getting close to Halloween, and I’ve got a present for you, so either you come with me because I’m your trustworthy best friend or you stay here with your Firewhiskey and loneliness.”

Monty grumbles, but allows Jasper to drag him across the dance floor and outside the Room of Requirement. Truthfully, he does trust Jasper. The dork would never do anything to put him in danger. Plus, he gives Monty random presents all the time, so there’s no reason today should be any different.

Jasper leads him down the hallway, going on and on about the butterbeer-infused cake that Bellamy will cut open any moment now. Monty tunes him out. Instead, he marvels at the fact that outside the Room of Requirement, there remains no trace of the Weird Brothers’ music. The walls are magically sound-proof. Brilliant.

They stop outside a door that Monty doesn’t recognize. “What’s this?” he asks, to which Jasper smiles goofily and mutters a soft “ _Alohomora._ ” Inside, the room is quite dark, and Monty peers in. What in the world could Jasper be on about?

Suddenly, everything is careening forward and there’s the sound of a door slamming behind him. “See you on the other side, brother!” shouts Jasper from somewhere. Monty doesn’t know. It’s too dark to see anything, and he has fallen sideways on what seems to be a pile of cleaning brooms. Oh, fabulous.

“ _What the hell?”_ Monty shouts. The sound of cackling comes from outside the door. “ _Jasper Jordan,_ you let me out _right now_ or I’ll hex you into oblivion!”

The world goes silent. Monty can hear Jasper’s footsteps receding, and he vaguely shifts his hand around the cleaning brooms in order to find a wall. It’s the custodian’s closet. The closet is so dark that when he holds a hand in front of his face, he cannot see the outline. Monty grimaces and moves to stand up when a voice says, “It’s no use.”

The sudden sound causes Monty to stumble, triggering the pile of cleaning brooms to give away beneath him. He’s sent crashing into something quite warm and… muscular?

“ _Miller?_ ” he all but screeches.

“Green,” says Miller coolly. His voice sounds right next to Monty’s ear- Miller is practically breathing down his neck- and the Ravenclaw springs away instantly. Whatever sort of emotion he feels from the closeness is shoved quickly aside.

“What- how- Jasper- _why?_ ”

“Don’t ask me. Your friend’s a nutcase.”

Monty leans up against something that doesn’t feel bound to collapse. “Tell me about it,” he mutters, mind racing as he pulls out his wand. “ _Alohomora!_ ” Nothing happens.

“Tried that. Jordan’s got some ward on the door- whatever it is, we’re not gonna be getting through with magic. What in the damn world was he thinking?”

Taking in his counterpart’s bitter tone, Monty can almost imagine the expression on Miller’s face. Lips twisted with loathing, eyebrows knitted, eyelashes… well, Monty had better stop imagining things. The expression is ugly. Yes, he believes that. No, True Love doesn’t exist.

“Jasper’s got some noble idea that I’m lonely and in need of a hot date,” he sighs. It’s a half-truth. “All good intentions until he pulls something like this.”

“Why me? I’ve got Bryan-”

“His mind’s been set. Boyfriends don’t stand in the way.” The room is small enough that they’re forced to sit side by side. Monty can feel Miller tense at his words. “But don’t worry: Jasper’s delusional. I don’t even like you very much.”

“Subtle.”

There’s silence for a while. Monty runs a hand through his hair and looks toward an undetermined point on the ceiling. Miller’s leg is positioned very close to his, and there’s heat radiating from it (but Monty doesn’t want to consider _that_ ). Instead, he turns his attention to a vaguely familiar scent as Miller stretches. It’s citrus-y, spiced, with slight herbal undertones. The combination isn’t _bad_ , but it’s somehow… somehow _wrong._

The words leave his mouth before he can consider what he’s saying. “Are you wearing cologne?”

Miller stops stretching. “What?”

“Er- I asked if you were wearing-“

“I know what you said.” The Slytherin’s tone can only be described as intense. “What sorta question is that, Green? It doesn’t matter if I wear cologne or not. Bloody hell. We’re strangers, there’s no point in small talk.”

For reasons unknown, this causes Monty to have a sudden epiphany. It seems to be a night for epiphanies.

See, Miller seems angry all of the time, but there’s something in his eyes that isn’t… well. It isn’t something you can just _overlook._ Monty has been too quick to judge and not quick enough to judge his own feelings. There’s no reason he should be considering a stranger’s smirk _ugly._ There is no reason a stranger’s eyes would be enigmas, or a stranger’s lips would feel so soft. Monty doesn’t look twice at strangers. But here he is, asking a Slytherin he cannot even see about the cologne he’s wearing.

“Maybe I don’t want to be strangers,” Monty says quietly.

Miller doesn’t reply for a very long time. Minutes slip by. The dark presses down on the two wizard’s shoulders, but neither cares to light a wand or make small talk. Eventually, Monty assumes the Slytherin has fallen asleep, and he closes his own eyes. Miller’s breathing is steady. Relaxing.

He is beginning to drift off when Miller’s breath hitches. “It’s… it’s Bryan’s favorite.”

“Hmm?”

“The cologne. It’s Bryan’s favorite,” he says. (But Monty is already asleep.)

\---

The next day, Monty has only a vague memory of Jasper shaking him awake in an empty closet. His best friend seemed convinced he had “gotten some,” but then again, a drunk Jasper is worse than delusional. And a hungover Jasper is worse than a drunk one. Monty thanks Merlin’s pants that he doesn’t have to sit at the Gryffindor table.

Wick and Raven are much better company. They partied pretty hard last night, but with every glass of alcohol they drink two glasses of water. “Hydrate or diedrate,” Wick says. It's the best hangover cure.

In terms of Monty’s own health status, he feels almost refreshed. Firewhiskey might blaze through one's blood, but a single glass doesn’t impact the brain. And that isn't even the best thing- the best thing is remembering his conversation with Monroe. Monty is over Harper. Monty is _over_ Harper!

He loves her still, and she loves him, and not a hint of romance remains. Monty can gaze at her beautiful smile from across the Great Hall and it _doesn’t hurt anymore._ Life is good.

Another relief stirs at the back of his mind. Turning to the Slytherin table, Monty gazes over the heads of his fellow classmates. Murphy and Emori seem to be having a contest to see how many kippers they can float over each other’s heads. Lexa is whispering to Gustus. Clarke deliberately avoids Bellamy’s gaze from across the table, and sitting next to Bellamy is… is…

Monty would rather turn into a toad than have this revelation.

“What’s the matter?” asks Raven, heaping more sausage onto her plate.

He shakes his head violently. “Nothing.” But that’s a lie. _Everything_ is the matter. The idea that Miller is an enigma to be decoded: that matters. So does Jasper’s belief in True Love, and the scent of Amortentia, and the press of lips against Monty’s forehead. So does Miller's smirk, and the realization that it isn’t ugly anymore.

No- no, this can’t be right. Monty hates the Slytherin in his expression, hates that he’s an unresolved mystery. Hates Miller. But there’s a voice in the dark talking about cologne, and closed eyelashes, and his smirk- his smirk is really fucking _hot_ and…

…and Monty has a crush on a taken man.

Bloody hell.


	3. quite ribbeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I have absolutely no idea why Bellamy is a Slytherin? Why did I do this? He's SUCH a Gryffindor.  
> 2) Both Gina and Bryan seem a bit antagonistic in this, but that isn't because they ARE. Honestly, I love both of them. However, they're going through internal conflict that the narrator(s), Miller (and Bellamy), cannot understand. Miller and Bellamy are SUPER unreliable. Miller, especially, is clueless.  
> 3) Sorry for the hiatus. I wasn't sure how the Bryan arc was going to play out, and there were plot holes. But now I’m hooked and writing fluff relentlessly. Watch out, fandom!

“Bloody hell.”

The third greenhouse would be a pleasantly humid contrast to the October weather, but Miller is sweaty from a weekend Quidditch practice, and the air sticks to his skin. It’s uncomfortable. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and strides toward a secluded nook of the greenhouse. There, sitting on a stool with his hands covered in soil, is the love of Miller’s life.

“Bloody hell,” Miller breathes again. “That’s beautiful.”

He is talking about the spiked flower positioned in front of Bryan, its petals a delicate ivory. The species is unrecognizable.

“Thanks.” Bryan’s smile is slight, but genuine. “She’s a cross between a Mandrake, Fanged Geranium, and an orchid. My Independent GMO project. Vera says if I can find a modification that affects the Mandrake’s healing properties, the N.E.W.T. examiners will no doubt give me an Outstanding.”

“That’s great, Bryan.”

“Right? Vera got her hands on a shipment of Mira-gro, so the maturing process should be complete by December at the latest. It allows me to have several rounds of projects going on before N.E.W.T.s. This here is the first round. See over there- that’s with a pansy, and an iris, and- I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Miller frowns, watching as the genetically modified plant nips at Bryan’s fingers. “Why not tell me? It’s important to you.”

“Yeah, but you want to be an Auror.”

“Not particularly. That’s what my dad wants. You know. There isn’t a career track for fiction; not really a market for it either-“

Bryan shakes his head violently and lunges forward, effectively shutting Miller up with a kiss. Miller leans into it. He doesn’t much like physical contact in public situations, but it’s a Saturday, and nobody else is in the greenhouse save for a Gibbering Gazania with disturbingly human-like features. It’s a passable place to bask in the smoothness of Bryan’s cheeks and the touch of Bryan’s tongue against his...

“Wait,” Miller breaks away. “Wait, no, something’s wrong, you’re never this insistent.”

“I love you,” Bryan says.

“Yeah, but-”

“Were you doing drills, Nate? You smell like- like sweat and- and sandalwood; you don’t normally smell like this.”

“Don’t avoid the question. What’s wrong?”

Miller waits, watching as Bryan runs a hand through his hair and fiddles with a pair of shears. Bryan’s eyebrows are knit in the sort of way that indicates a lengthy heart-to-heart in which he lists everything wrong with Miller’s approach to life and Miller nods along, despising the emotional drama of intimate relationships. Honestly? The Slytherin is not ready for this. He’s exhausted from Quidditch and not in the mood for comforting Bryan, especially after being locked in a closet not twelve hours ago.

The Hufflepuff sighs. “I- I got you a piece of butterbeer cake, last night.”

“And?”

“And you never showed, Nate.” He begins to pack up his things, annoyance creeping into his tone. “I’m probably overreacting, and you’re probably gonna give me a detailed excuse as to why I had to stand in the corner alone for thirty minutes before leaving the party, but it hurts, okay? Just… just give me an explanation before I drown in assumptions.”

Miller blinks. Is this _seriously_ happening right now? “You- what, you think I stood you up? Bryan, we’ve been dating for _three years_. Who d’you think I am, Finn fucking Collins? …No, don’t answer that.”

“Nate-“

“For your information, Jasper Jordan locked me in a closet with Green and I spent the entire evening wishing Gryffindors weren’t batshit crazy.”

Bryan tenses for a reason Miller cannot identify. “Monty Green?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you spent the evening in a closet with a guy who was a frog before you _kissed_ him.”

“Toad, I think. Why? You kissed him too.”

“Didn’t change him back.”

“What? What does it matter? He said it was some sort of freak accident!”

Bryan brushes the dirt from his hands and slings his bag over his shoulder, his mouth little more than a slash across his face. He hasn’t seemed this angry since last summer, when Miller accidentally killed his pet goldfish. (How was Miller supposed to know that Muggle fish can’t survive an unfiltered _Aguamenti_?)

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Bryan mutters.

“Bryan-“

“I’m sorry, Nate,” he says, although he doesn’t look it. “I’m overanalyzing things, and I just need some time to cool off and figure things out, okay? You haven’t done anything, I promise. Er- dinner as usual?”

Dumbfounded, Miller nods, watching in silence as Bryan turns around and walks out of the greenhouse. Instantly, the world becomes much more unbearable. The muggy air presses into his skin, collecting above his upper lip, and the Gibbering Gazania hisses in his direction. Merlin, he’s sick of all this emotional crap.

“What’s he on about?” Miller asks Bryan’s genetically modified plant.

The plant hisses at him, too.

\---

Dinner is nice. Dinner is very nice. Every Saturday evening when the sun sinks low, Miller and Bryan nab meat and vegetable pies from the kitchens to eat in the Defense classroom. It isn’t exceedingly romantic, but something about Bryan’s relaxed smile makes Miller feel like the protagonist of an Aphrodite Jones novel. (He will deny it. Miller isn’t a romantic, even though Bryan tells him he is. Well- maybe Bryan’s right. The sentiment lies way down deep, Miller supposes, below his passion for horror stories and playing delinquent.)

Despite the argument earlier today, they both seem set on resolving things. “I’m sorry,” Bryan says around a bite of vegetable pie. Miller thinks those pies are disgusting, but Bryan thinks the slaughter of animals is disgusting, so they’re at a bypass. “I’m still a little skeptical that Monty’s telling the truth, so I’ve been doing some research, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. It isn’t your fault.”

“What’re you researching?”

Bryan won’t tell him. Just says, “I’ll tell you when I find it,” and leaves it at that. Instead, the conversation takes a turn in the direction of the Halloween Hogsmeade trip next week. They mutually agree on the Three Broomsticks. The new restaurant will only appeal to naïve third years.

They part ways on a good note. Miller pulls off his beanie- it’s the last thing he has of his mum’s, and Bryan doesn’t tease him when he wears it- and leaves his boyfriend outside the Hufflepuff common room. Miller is already looking forward to seeing Bryan tomorrow. Despite their occasional rows, Bryan’s dimpled smile is equivalent to home.

He glides his way toward the Slytherin common room, his fingers itching for something intangible. He used to steal on a regular basis, back when Hogwarts was a fantasy and his father buried himself in work. Maybe the kleptomania started because Miller wanted attention; maybe he used stolen items to fill the void of his mother. Miller doesn’t know.

He has Bryan now, and Bellamy. Quidditch. The void has been satiated, and Miller can ignore his relationship with his father when away at school. He doesn’t even need the beanie, now, but cannot bring himself to be rid of it, no matter what Bellamy thinks.

Bellamy is sitting in the common room when Miller enters, reading from that book Gina got him. Miller likes Gina, but mostly because he thinks anyone who appreciates the  _Iliad_ should get a special promotion. Other than that, she’s just another Gryffindor. She isn’t Clarke. Bellamy needs to get his head out of his arse and-

“Miller. I was gonna talk to you.” Bellamy snaps the book shut.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So this kid, Jasper- you probably know who he is-“ (Miller makes a face) “-he mentioned something to me, after breakfast. About trying to hook you up with another guy. Monty, I think?”

“If you say anything else about Jordan or Green, so help me Merlin, I will  _murder_  you,” Miller says.

“Okay, okay!” Bellamy puts his hands up, glasses slipping down his nose. "Just warning you. O tells me nothing stops Jasper from pursuing his fanatical ideas, and the kid has literal love potions up his sleeves. I’d watch my back, if I were you."

"Great. Thanks."

"How's Bryan doing?"

Miller crosses to an adjacent armchair, slumping dejectedly. "Fine," he mutters. "How's Gina?"

"Wonderful, but we were talking about you."

"Fuck off.”

"Somebody overheard your conversation in the greenhouse earlier."

"Fuck off."

"Want to talk about it?"

Miller springs up. "I think the only reason you were sorted into Slytherin is because you _cannot_ let things go," he replies bitterly, nabbing the _Iliad_  from beneath Bellamy's nose. "My problems are my problems. Good night and good riddance."

"So you admit there are problems!" Bellamy calls, drawing eyes from all over the room, but Miller is done with this conversation. 

In their dorm room, he casts wards around his bunk, flipping off Adam when the latter opens his mouth to speak. Slipping beneath the silver-colored blanket, Miller opens the  _Iliad,_ hoping to ignore any thought of Jordan and Green. This proves impossible. Jordan is a nuisance. Green is  _fascinating_ , dare Miller think such a thing, but enigmas hold his attention no matter what. Bellamy is Bellamy, as usual. Miller will forgive him tomorrow. And Bryan is- he loves Bryan. He would do anything for another smile across a forkful of vegetable pie.

Miller falls asleep with the name  _Patroclus_ printed across his cheekbone. 

\---

A week of several Quidditch practices and unfinished assignments later, Hogwarts begins to feel like purgatory. Miller is stuck between getting enough sleep and making progress in his classes, but while he’s at the top of his game in DADA, Herbology goes down the drain. Usually, he would ask for help from Bryan or Clarke. But Bryan is immersed in his GMO project, and Clarke is avoiding anyone who even _knows_ the name “Gina.” So, Miller is on his own.

They are given potted Gibbering Gazanias to look after, and his talks so much that he throws it across the dorm room two days later. To be fair, it was making fun of his Tornadoes poster.

He gets a letter from David Miller about his mum. It’s that time of year again. The anniversary of her death always arrives just before Halloween, negatively affecting his studies and spirit. This is partially due to The Floo Call. The Floo Call is meant to be a father-and-son heart-to-heart about mum. The Floo Call never ends up being about mum. It’s about studying for N.E.W.T.s; the upcoming Auror initiation; David’s pride in his son.

Miller gets it. His dad is so invested in covering his grief with work that he’s translated his passion into Miller’s future, although Miller is less than enthusiastic about conforming to his dad’s wishes. He doesn’t want to talk about mum, either… but he would rather talk about mum than about fighting Dark wizards and saving the world.

The anniversary dawns on Thursday. There isn’t much feeling attached to it anymore, since she died when Miller was ten, but he remembers her smile and nimble fingers. She liked stories. She believed in magic before she had proof it was real. She loved everyone before she loved herself, but he makes up for it by loving her memory, now.

Bryan kisses him that morning, long and deep, one hand wrapped up in Miller’s beanie. Miller doesn’t have anything to say, but over the years, Bryan has learned to accept what he cannot understand.

And that’s fine, too, but if only Bryan _could_ understand, maybe he wouldn’t get mad at Miller for fickle things.

See, Miller doesn’t tend to wear his beanie because comments about it are less than kind. Ontari smirks during DADA, refusing to let up. Raven Reyes eyes it warily, for Slytherins are supposed to be sleek bastards with evil intent. Murphy has the audacity to say, “that hat is practically muddy as your blood, Miller,” which is why Miller punches him soundly.

Which is why Murphy punches Miller back.

Which is why they’re both sent to the infirmary with detentions and broken noses.

Which is why Bryan won’t talk to him, because Bryan is a pacifist, and “we’ve been over this, Nate.”

Which is why Miller is currently having to endure the sound of Emori lecturing Murphy for fussing over his own crooked nose (which was crooked in the first place) and Jasper Jordan, who has stopped by with a so-called Panacea Drought.

“…and your skill in Quidditch will increase by sixteen percent, and you'll get six-pack abs, and who knows, it might even help you find True Love!” Jasper finishes.

Miller looks him dead in the eye. “You can shove the love potion up your arse, Jordan. I’ve got a boyfriend. I’m not interested.”

So, cynical attitude aside, Miller misses his mum.

\---

Bryan forgives him for punching Murphy on Saturday morning, after Bellamy wakes the Slytherin Quidditch team up at four to try out a new workout regime. It goes remarkably well, despite Miller’s terrible mood for the couple hours it lasts. He isn’t a morning person. Bellamy should know this by now. However, Bryan loves the sunrise, and their paths intersect as Miller heads for the shower.

The Hufflepuff is always under the impression that Miller adamantly grieves for his mum, so he forgives him for punching Murphy. "It was a natural reaction and I shouldn't have been angry with you," Bryan says. Miller doesn't know why anyone needs forgiveness for punching Murphy, but Bryan can be remarkably dense. Miller doesn’t _grieve._ He endures.

He’ll also endure Bryan’s sympathy in order to receive a few kisses and- _no_ , he isn’t a fucking romantic, stop saying that.

Bryan mentions the Three Broomsticks. Miller nods, leaves, showers, puts on cologne. Life has been fluid lately, with little time for intensive thought. The only thing that truly sparks his brain is the conversation he’d had with Monty in the closet, which Miller remembers in stark contrast to reality. _Maybe I don’t want to be strangers._ (Miller would be fine with being strangers, but he likes things to be simple and well-defined, and the only thing well-defined about Monty are those words. The rest is itching to be stolen away.)

Miller and Bryan meet in the Great Hall, which is filled with third through seventh years waiting in loud anticipation for Hogsmeade and the feast later tonight. Miller wears a nicer set of green-trimmed robes and shaves away his scruff of a beard, for Bryan likes it when his skin is smooth. Bryan likes a lot of things. Miller likes to make Bryan happy.

“You look handsome,” Bryan says. There’s that dimple again.

Miller kisses him on the dimple in silent compliment. Words are easier when written.

When they’re shuffled into carriages, they nab one with Clarke Griffin. Miller hasn’t talked to her for almost a week. There are dark circles under her eyes, but she smirks when Bryan makes a joke about Thestrals. “I hope you realize how lucky you are not to be able to see them,” she tells the Hufflepuff, who nods gravely. “Anyway, how is the GMO project going?”

“Awesome,” he says. “The Mira-gro is working well. Vera helped me cross a Snargaluff pod with a Dittany plant- I think it could result in a medicinal breakthrough- but that’s a long shot.”

“It’ll be great, babe,” Miller asserts. The carriage jolts and surges forward.

“The tuber juice and Dittany don’t mix, correct?” Clarke asks, the wind blowing through her hair. “Like water and oil. Maybe the modification will prevent such a separation. It does sound like a breakthrough. You should notify me when it matures.”

“Of course.”

Bryan and Clarke continue to make small talk about Herbology. Miller considers asking them to remedy his declining green thumb, but decides they both have enough on their plates. He’ll ask Jones or another member of his assigned Herbology group later this evening. Stuck in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize they have reached Hogsmeade until he overhears Bryan inviting Clarke to eat with them.

“Really?” she replies. “Oh, thank you. I made plans with Bellamy a while ago, but that fell apart. Lexa is hanging out with Gustus and Raven wanted to visit the new restaurant with Wick, so I thought I might end up sitting alone. Do you mind, Miller?”

“You really need to ask, Griffin?”

They step off the carriage. Miller pats their Thestral’s nose and stews when Clarke takes a quick detour to the postage office. Internally, he wishes he and Bryan could go on a date like they had planned, but he knows saying something is selfish. Bryan would just get angrier with him.

The owls in the post office are decorated with Halloween-themed costumes. Miller thinks they’re ridiculous, and tells Bryan this. Clarke gives a few Knuts to the man at the desk and hands over a few documents destined for St. Mungo’s- early job applications, probably- and then they exit. As the door clangs shut, Bryan secures his scarf around his neck, commenting about the weather. It _is_ quite cold. The Three Broomsticks should warm them up. 

The Three Broomsticks is entirely too crowded.

Miller, Bryan, and Clarke are lucky enough to get the last available table, located near a group of rowdy fourth years. The position is utterly unromantic and Miller is almost glad that Clarke is here. He also wonders why it is so crowded- surely most people would be trying out the new restaurant- but one of the fourth years loudly complains that the restaurant was “closed because the owner had family issues or some shit,” so that explains it.

They order butterbeers from a frantic waiter, and Clarke sheds her coat. Herbology naturally becomes the focus of the conversation. Miller looks in the other direction, watching people come and go. Although many students enter, looking for a free table, they exit just as quickly to head for Madame Puddifoot’s tea shop or somewhere else insufferable.

Suddenly, he hears a loud shout and looks in that direction. Immediately afterward, he looks away, praying Jasper Jordan hasn’t seen him.

He has.

“Hey- hey, Miller! Hey! Mind if we share your table?” Jasper exclaims, bouncing in front of their booth like an overenthusiastic Quidditch hoop. Behind him stand Monty Green and two girls- Miller just barely recognizes them- who look somewhat embarrassed to be in Jasper’s company. Miller focuses briefly on Green, whose eyes are downcast, and then slides his gaze to Jasper.

“I have quite a few hexes up my sleeves, Jordan, so I suggest you fuck off,” he says threateningly.

Jasper visibly shrinks. “I mean- the new restaurant isn’t open, and all of the other tables are taken, and we need a seat. And you guys have plenty of room. And I’m sorry about locking you in a closet with Monty and for trying to give you a love potion. Genuinely! I think you’re cool and we should be friends because I’m friends with Clarke and-“

“You can sit here,” interjects Clarke. Miller turns to her, pursing his lips at the thought of hearing Jasper talk incessantly for another hour, but it’s no use. Their group of three instantly becomes a group of seven, and Miller is pressed against Bryan as he tries to make room.

Jasper prompts Green to slide in next to Miller and instantly, there are too many words in Miller's mind. _Maybe I don’t want to be strangers._ Merlin’s bloody pants, this is awkward. The closet conversation shouldn’t matter this much. Conversations never have substance. _Written_ language has substance, not casual exchanges. Green’s leg presses into his. Bryan looks pissed for a moment, but his features ease back into place, and Miller is thankful.

Introductions are made. The two girls are sixth years named Harper and Monroe, and they want to be Aurors, so Miller offers to put a good word in with his dad. Jasper is not as insufferable as anticipated, according to his Potions conversation with Clarke and Bryan. Green says not a word. By the time everyone receives their butterbeers, Miller is confident that everything is going as smoothly as possible, considering the situation. He isn’t angry about the date with Bryan anymore, and Bryan doesn’t seem uncomfortable with Green’s presence.

But then, Clarke asks the question. “What are you up to, Miller?”

There are too many eyes on him. He grunts and ducks his head.

“That much going on?” She laughs, and Harper laughs too.

“Anniversary of his mom’s death was Thursday,” Bryan says. “Nate doesn’t feel like talking much.”

Miller narrows his eyes. He turns to the Hufflepuff, watching as Bryan’s mouth twists. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

The look in Bryan’s eyes becomes almost dangerous. Miller watches as the gaze slides to the person next to him, crossing a line he never knew existed. What is Bryan doing?

A voice sounds next to him. “I don’t think he needs you to defend his personality.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Miller can almost _feel_  Green look away, and he watches as Bryan’s hostile expression morphs into one of intense satisfaction. Something just happened, but Miller has no idea what, and it seems nobody else knows, either.

Green nudges Jasper out of the booth and leaves, his hair a glossy color Miller could compare to ink or owl feathers. Jasper runs after his best friend, and Harper and Monroe leave just as quickly, sharing an appalled look. Miller fumes. Clarke simply looks frozen.

“What was that?” he asks Bryan sharply.

“Me figuring things out,” Bryan grins. “Sorry, babe. Look on the bright side! We’ve got the table all to ourselves now.”

Miller looks at him, and then at his butterbeer. He feels like a child.

\---

Two days later, during Transfiguration, Clarke asks him if he is alright with being collateral damage. Miller doesn’t know what to say.

Instead, he goes to Bellamy and returns the copy of the _Iliad._ Bellamy looks about to explode from stress, considering the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch match is only two weeks away. When Miller tells him that reading can relieve stress, Bellamy reveals that thought of the _Iliad_ just makes him sick. “I’m having some problems with Gina,” he says. “I mean, I love her, but I love Quidditch, and she’s worried about the future…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do you think it means? Gina wants two kids and a husband who isn’t constantly on the fly, coaching a dangerous sport. She wants something permanent, and I can’t give that to her.” Bellamy adjusts his glasses and sighs. “She doesn’t- she doesn’t realize how important she is to me.”

“But you know who else is important to you,” Miller says quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

 “Clarke misses you.”

Bellamy frowns. “How does this have anything to do with Gina? How… _wait,_ you know why she’s avoiding me? _Miller._ You know?”

“I’m not the person to ask. Clarke is,” he replies, hands up. “I’m sure you will figure it out.” (Because no matter how many times Clarke and Bellamy fight, they always resolve their issues, and Miller would appreciate it if they could get off his back about his own relationship.)

When it comes to his own relationship, Miller _really_ does not know what to say. After the Three Broomsticks disaster, Bryan revealed that he and Green have been in a competition of sorts, and it has nothing to do with Miller. Miller is simply _in the way._ Which doesn’t make sense at all, for Bryan and Green were acquaintances not too long ago. Miller considers lying the ultimate form of betrayal. 

Betrayal tastes bitter on his tongue.

The most he can do is focus on schoolwork and Quidditch. The latter is more appealing, so most of the time, he ends up meandering around the castle on his Besomblast 360. Flying is enjoyable; when he speeds fast enough, the world falls away and sucks him into the black hole of time. His mother used to tell him bedtime stories about space. Somehow, Miller thinks of Green’s hair again.  _Monty's_ hair again. They aren't exactly strangers anymore. He can call him that, can't he?

He cannot he cannot he cannot he cannot he  
falls off his broom.

\---

Miller is sitting in the library, reading soliloquies and procrastinating Herbology classification charts, when his hair pricks at the back of his neck. He turns around, a scowl put in place to scare off first year passerby, but startles when he recognizes Monty. The Ravenclaw sits at a table, surrounded by books, and stares right back at him. It’s almost _ador_ -unusual. Yes.

The sixth year suddenly springs up, walking forward in a slow and purposeful fashion. It takes him years to reach Miller, almost. “What do you want, Green?” the Slytherin growls.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Monty observes, collapsing in the wooden chair across from him.

“Always.”

“I came to apologize.”

“What for?”

“You know,” Monty shrugs, gesturing into thin air. The bones of his wrists jut out and Miller’s eyes follow their movement. “The Three Broomsticks. You were perfectly capable of defending yourself. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Miller looks briefly at the open book on the table, and then pulls out his wand, conjuring a bookmark. “What’s done is done,” he mutters tonelessly. In retrospect, he’d forgotten Monty said anything at all. His main concern has been Bryan’s supposed feud with- _wait a moment._ “What’s with you and Bryan?”

The Ravenclaw’s cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Erm, nothing? I-I accidentally killed one of his GMO projects.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes. If Monty killed Bryan’s one of plants, Bryan would all but _Avada_ him. “What’s the competition?”

“Competition?”

Monty looks embarrassed, but confused. Miller struggles with piecing the situation together. Words and interactions fly across his mind, tying loose ends until he comes to a conclusion. If Monty is confused, then Bryan is creating a one-sided competition concerning something Monty is familiar with. Since they have both acted strangely when around him, this something must be Miller, which doesn’t make sense because the only interaction he’s had with Monty was- _oh_. It clicks into place.

Bryan should know Miller better than to become irrationally jealous over an unintentional evening in a closet. Merlin, maybe the jealousy extends to that unintentional kiss- how long ago? Two weeks? A month? Seventh year is an exhausting era.

“Never mind, Green,” Miller says firmly. Monty’s eyes are wild, but begin to calm as Miller shuffles the library books around the table. By the time the Slytherin has fetched a proper quill and opened his Herbology assignments, Monty has let the situation go, laying his head down on the table. He looks in dire need of a Pepper-Up potion.

The silence lasts for a long while. Miller attempts to focus his attention on the classification charts, but words distort until he doesn’t know the difference between a Fanged Geranium and Gillyweed. He’ll just have to suck it up and ask Clarke for help, for Jones is a poor teacher and Professor Vera has taken to scowling at him whenever he enters the greenhouse. If he doesn’t step up his game soon, she could file a temporary Quidditch suspension until he completes his pile of assignments, and Slytherin can't afford to lose someone now.

He looks up at Monty for the fifth time. Monty stares back at him intently. “Don’t you have better things to do?” Miller asks, looking pointedly at the unoccupied table covered in books.

“Not exactly. I’m researching the relationship between conservation of energy and wands. For science.” He holds up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he smirks, glancing back at his Herbology. Everyone jokes about Ravenclaw work ethic, but he _wishes_ he could be a Ravenclaw, honestly.

“Miller,” Monty says, after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Miller, forgive me if we’re still strangers, but you’ve written two words in fifteen minutes. I’m beginning to think you don’t know what you’re doing.”             

The seventh year glances at him begrudgingly. “Herbology,” he says. It’s enough explanation.

That’s when the miracle happens. Monty slides into the seat closest to Miller and takes up the book, oval fingernails tracing patterns over the words. Dirt is caked beneath his nails. Miller, acclimated to Bryan, finds it revoltingly charming. "Maybe you aren't looking at plants the right way? They're more than just plants, you know. Memorizing their uses isn't as easy when you don't know the background."

Herbology begins to slowly make sense as Monty explains the mythological background of asphodel, gillyweed, and everything in between. Miller finds Herbology much easier to understand when it is connected to ancient Muggle classics. The tutoring session is wonderful. When Monty finally slumps back in exhaustion, Miller has completed the chart and written three essay outlines. He no longer feels desperate. 

“I can help whenever,” Monty is saying, fiddling with the blue decals on his school uniform.

Miller nods. He often has trouble expressing his gratitude, but Monty seems to understand, relaxing in his chair and smiling briefly. The smile is intriguing: white-toothed and dimpled, much like Bryan’s. Maybe this is why the Slytherin doesn’t feel uncomfortable getting lessons from someone he has recently met. (But, strangely, Miller is okay. At least Monty recognizes the value of silence.)

“Saturdays,” Miller says. “Well- not this Saturday. Quidditch match.”

“I remember. I’d say good luck, but Jasper made me bet on Gryffindor.”

“Relentless.”

“Tell me about it.” The sixth year rises up from his chair, taking his wand and casting a levitation spell over the Herbology textbooks. Miller joins, and together, they head for the bookshelves.

\---

Saturday arrives, and it’s pouring outside. Miller is awakened by Bellamy, who is frantically shouting Impervious Charms at his Quidditch gear. Bellamy, unfortunately, is not adept at charms. It takes him several loud attempts to make his gloves water-resistant, and by then, everyone in the dormitory is wide awake.

At breakfast, the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables are jittery with nerves and excitement. Miller sits with his team, eating black pudding as Atom and Clarke play a balancing game with slices of toast. Emori casts spells at the towers to see if _Stupefy_ knocks them over, while Ontari sniffs and says they’re all acting like children. Miller gets along with Ontari well enough, so long as she’s in a good mood. The other members of the team are much easier to hang out with. However, he and Jones aren't partaking in the festivities, for they have the daunting task of convincing Bellamy to eat something.

“No,” Bellamy says as Jones shoves a heaping plate of bacon in front of him. “No, I’ll throw up.”

“Come on, Bell. It’s just another game.”

“It _isn’t_ just another game, you know that. It’s my last year. Gryffindor always beats us!”

“You’re a great Captain,” Jones continues. “Clarke's a good Seeker. We’ll win. Don’t worry.”

“But if we _don’t?”_ Bellamy frets.

Miller takes the plate from Jones and holds up one piece of bacon in front of Bellamy’s pale face. “Then O will have won, and she’ll rub it in your face, as usual.”

Bellamy smiles for the first time. “That’s my girl.”

“And if you don’t eat, you’ll fall off your broom before she can even try to whoop your ass,” Jones says firmly.

Bellamy takes the piece of bacon, but eats only half before succumbing to nerves again. Breakfast continues. Octavia stops by and cuffs her brother on the shoulder, smiling menacingly and forcing him to eat another piece of bacon. Gina stops by to clasp Bellamy's hand in reassurance, but Bellamy looks concerned and cowed at Clarke’s resulting glower. Miller sighs, wishing Bellamy would break up with Gina once and for all. Meanwhile, Bryan stops by and kisses him soundly on the lips, but it just feels routine.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Bryan asks.

Considering this might be Miller’s last match against Slytherin’s greatest rival? “No.”

They go down to the pitch together, Bryan clutching a piece of marmalade toast in one hand and a yellow-striped umbrella in the other. The moment feels forced, but reminiscent of the better days, so Miller doesn’t mind. He kisses his boyfriend again when they have to part ways. At the same time, he catches a glimpse of dark hair out of the corner of his eye, but prevents himself from feeling anything more than indifference.

As Miller steps into the rain, he is instantly drenched. Bellamy’s Impervious Charms are futile. The sky pours buckets and he has no bloody clue why Kane didn’t call off the match. By the time he enters the changing rooms to put on the rest of his gear, the rain has soaked his undergarments and the entire team is reluctantly shivering. They had better win this game.

Bellamy is the only one who seems to be unaffected by the cold. The closer it gets to game time, the more resolved he becomes, finally living up to his reputation as a Slytherin. It doesn’t matter who goes up against him: his ambition threatens to destroy any person who comes in his way. Quidditch is Bellamy's true calling, and Miller is relieved he isn’t a member of the other team.

Then again, Bellamy has never won a Quidditch cup. (But this year is their year.)

“Okay, team,” he says, rounding them up. “Bad conditions out there, but we have the advantage. We are in better control of our brooms than the Gryffindors, and I’ve been talking to Raven Reyes about formation and strategy. Remember- passing is of utmost importance, but if someone gets an opening, fly down the field. The Beaters will protect you. Ontari and Miller, _smash_ the bloody daylights out of any opponent. Clarke, disregard everything I mentioned about Seeking from below. In this rain, that’s a moot point. Any questions?”

“Traditional form, Blake?” Jones asks.

“Yes. Harry _Potter_ almighty, if you try the left hoop tactic again, I will murder you.” Jones nods gravely, just as the whistle sounds from outside. “Alright, team. Let’s destroy them.”

"Let's destroy Octavia!" Emori shouts, and everyone laughs, grabbing their brooms.

Miller runs out into the rain, where Bellamy and Octavia crush each other’s hands in an act of sibling rivalry and the game begins. Jasper Jordan is providing commentary, Professor Griffin moderating, and Echo refereeing, which Miller is glad about. She used to be good friends with Bellamy. The two have grown apart over the years, but it was mutual, so Echo won't make any unfair calls. 

The second whistle blows, and Miller’s thoughts fade into a blur. Despite the sound of Jordan’s commentary, the audience’s cheers, and the relentless rain, he focuses on nothing but the smash of his bat against the Bludgers. Minutes pass. He and Ontari work in unison to keep Octavia from scoring, for she’s the only player to make Gryffindor a truly menacing team.

“Aaaaaand Octavia Blake scores again!” Jordan crows from the podium. “That’s seventy-fifty, to Gryffindor. The girl’s a beast. I would probably marry her if not for my lovely girlfriend, Maya. Do you all know Maya? She’s very-”

“Jordan,” Professor Griffin admonishes.

“Sorry, Professor.”

Miller hits another Bludger in the direction of Monroe, but it’s no use. The Gryffindor Chaser has already snatched the Quaffle from Atom’s grasp and is zooming down the pitch. Jones tries to block the ball, but Monroe shoots it into the left hoop and scores again for Gryffindor.

Gnawing at his lip, Miller scans the crowd. Most of the people in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw are on their feet, cheering excitedly, but Miller sees Bryan sitting silently in the back of the stands. The Hufflepuff looks sympathetic, which makes Miller scowl and look in the other direction. The other direction happens to be Monty Green. Monty, too, remains seated. The sixth year gives him a twisted smile and a thumbs-up.

Miller turns away. He isn’t sure what to-  _Bludger!_ He ducks, and it barely misses the top of his head. 

Gryffindor scores five more times, and Slytherin scores twice. The ambitious gleam in Bellamy's eyes turns into devastation as the game continues, his hair stuck to his head and robes dripping with rain water. Thunder rumbles closer than it did before, darkening the sky. When the two hour mark ticks by, the score is seventy to one-ninety, and the excitement of the crowd has faded into a sluggish fascination. 

Miller passes close to Emori, who gives him a water-logged grimace and says, “how long does it take to find a goddamned Snitch?”

And it is taking _way_ too long, but Clarke is trying her best. Miller can see it in her determined expression, even from twenty-five feet away. Octavia scores another ten points. Jasper Jordan reiterates his desire to marry her, but his voice is scratchy from overuse. Everyone is exhausted from flying, and Miller’s own attempts at hitting the Bludgers are half-hearted.

Then, obscured by sheets of rain, Clarke dives.

The Gryffindor Seeker is nowhere near enough to follow her. In fact, he doesn’t even seem to _see_ her, continuing his search for the Snitch as she maneuvers through the thick rain. The Slytherin crowd leaps up and waits in awe, breathless. Even Jasper gets caught up in excitement, despite the fact that he's rooting or Gryffindor.

Suddenly, Clarke shoots up, the Snitch grasped tightly in her hand. Miller grins, letting his bat hang limply in his hand with relief. A cheer arises in the crowd, Jasper shouts out the results, Echo blows the final whistle, and Bellamy gleefully zooms over to Clarke, tackling her in a mid-air hug.

This is the first time Slytherin has won against Gryffindor in almost a decade.

It’s impossible for anyone to see it in the rain, but most of the team is crying when they reach he ground. Ontari maintains her holier-than-thou attitude, but Emori is swept up into Murphy’s embrace and Bellamy and Clarke are kissing. Miller looks on with satisfaction. He's sorry that Gina is still caught in the midst of their relationship, but it’s _about bloody time._

Miller spies Octavia and embraces her. She doesn’t seem the least bit disappointed. “It’s Bell’s last year, and he deserves it,” she says. “But don’t think Gryffindor will go easy on you if we both make the championship.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies fondly.

They enter the changing room and strip out of their gear, and then run down to the dungeons to shower and change into warm clothes. Bellamy is over the moon with happiness. He’ll have to figure out the situation with Gina later, but right now, their celebration calls for butterbeer and chocolate.

Jones and Miller volunteer to get the supplies from the kitchens. They pass by the library, and this is how Miller finds Monty, sitting at a table and surrounded with books. Jones leaves, but Miller stays, striding to Monty’s table expectantly.

“So, Monty, you lost the bet.” He speaks before he thinks, but maybe that’s okay.

“The bet?” Monty laughs, looking up from his books. “Oh, I don’t owe Jasper anything. He gave me back the money and told me to ‘go get ‘em, toad-bro.’ Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Such an idiot.”

It’s ridiculous. It’s _absolutely_ ridiculous, but Miller is smiling.

\---

The next day is bright and crisp. Miller tries to sleep in, but instead receives an owl message from Bryan summoning him to the greenhouses, which happens pretty often. Bryan usually can't stand more than fifteen minutes without tending to his plants, so he sends for Miller instead of seeking him out. Professor Vera has multiple owls just for this purpose.

So, Miller enters, the steamy environment leaving his skin mildly sticky. Professor Vera is in the corner, tending to a plant, and she smiles at him before leaving to get more pots. After turning in all of his assignments, he is no longer subject to her condescending frown. Bryan is in the other corner, waiting, and Miller goes to him with a tentative smile.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks, reaching for the Hufflepuff’s hand. The hand shifts away. Miller realizes, suddenly, that Bryan's hands are devoid of dirt, and the GMO projects are still on the shelf where he stores them.

“I found it,” Bryan says. His tone is oddly detached.

“You found… what?”

“I found it,” Bryan says again. He looks at Miller as if Miller is one of his projects, but a failed project, lacking any admirable properties.

Stunned, he reaches for the hand again, hoping for some contact. Instead of reacting, Bryan purses his lips and waits until Miller grasps and lets go of his limp hand. It doesn’t make any sense. Miller becomes a fourth year again, meeting Bryan as a stranger and itching to discover him.

“You’re an idiot, Nate. I know you don’t believe it, but it _hurts_.”

“ _What_ does?”

“Monty! Your... your _thing_ with Monty.”

“ _What?”_

“I…” Bryan sucks in an audible breath. “I’m done. Okay? I’m done. I’m breaking up with you. I _love_ you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

Miller can’t move. Miller cannot move. “Why?”

“We’ve… we’ve gone our separate ways and have different interests now. I want to go into Herbology and you’re going to be an Auror and it isn't like we are meant to be. This was never going to work,” he says. The words sound rehearsed in Bryan’s mouth and _so_ wrong.

It hurts. Miller thinks of all their memories together: eating vegetable and meat pies in the Defense classroom; piggy-back flying around the grounds; lounging by the lake; sifting their hands through mounds of soil; kissing behind closed doors; going home together for Christmas; Bryan’s hand fisted in his beanie; stealing items from the joke shop and defending each other and smiling. He wants to marry Bryan someday, settle down, write, raise Mandrakes and Nifflers and grow old. He wants it so badly. 

“ _Why?_ Is it because I’ve been studying with Monty? I can stop and I can wear cologne more and I- _”_

“You’ve been _studying_ with him?”

“Yes.” Miller does not lie.

Bryan, surrounded by his plants, seems to wilt. He slings his bag over his shoulder and walks past the Slytherin, looking upset. “I’m done. Please don’t argue with me.”

“This _conversation_ is not done. I love you-“

“Miller,” Bryan interrupts.

Miller stops. Bryan hasn’t called him that in a long time.

With that, his ex-boyfriend leaves the greenhouse. Miller stays until Professor Vera enters again, heaving a box of terra-cotta pots and giving him a confused, sympathetic smile. Miller doesn’t smile back. He pushes past her, snatching a potted plant from under her nose just to steal something, and heads for the broom shed, where the only bad news is his inability to fly up into outer space. He tries, but the broom gently lets him back to the ground. After this, he throws the potted plant against the broom shed, letting the ceramic shards lie there indefinitely.

He walks away.                                                                                                                                                                                      


End file.
